“That yellow line isn’t really the equator,” says Ron.
“Right, it’s a made up line,” I respond.
“Nah, the real middle of the world is in a museum a little ways south.”
I nod. Act surprised.
But, I’m not sure if he’s bullshitting me.
He goes back to whatever boring press release we were discussing.
I’m not listening to him. I’m playing a back and forth tennis match in my head. Believe the people with yellow paint dripping from their brushes or believe the man leaning over my desk?
Back and forth.
I realize I have no idea where the equator is.
I might draw it around Panama if somebody handed me a map and marker.
Ron is discussing proper comma placement but I’m still having an existential crises about my inability to verify 95% of the things I “know.”
“I believe in the Oxford comma and I bet Jesus does too and I don’t know why,” I blurt out.
“Whaa…”
“Uh…sorry Ron…I got lost in thought for a sec. What’s the name of that museum with the real equator again?”