The barista asks the man in front of me if he has plans for tonight.
He explains that a buddy just got divorced, so they’re hitting the strip clubs. She has recommendations by location, club, and even individual dancers.
“You’re amazing,” the man says. “You know everything.”
When I order, I discover that the barista’s knowledge, while deep, is somewhat limited. She asks if I have any plans.
“Going to see Mad Max.”
She looks confused. So I explain the franchise. Just the basics like Max, the post apocalyptic wasteland, the ayatollah of rock n rolla, thunderdome, etc.
“Wait,” she says. “Is this a movie?”
“Oh, I just thought you had a friend named Mad Max.”