The Navajo woman accepted my offer of a lift to the reservation, but didn't seem inclined to say much more. I noticed a look of ill-disguised disapproval as she got in the car, lingering for a moment on my exposed cleavage, but that was all - she gazed stonily ahead while the car pulled away, leaving a trail of hot Nevada dust in the rear view mirror. 

After a few failed attempts at small talk, and my knowledge of her culture exhausted, I kept quiet, and concentrated instead on the evening ahead: a quick bath before Jim returned from work, followed by a dinner with Michael, his boss, at Bon Vivant, the new French restaurant. 

The Navajo woman eyed the silk-wrapped bottle of expensive Cabernet Sauvignon I'd bought, as it rattled gently on the dashboard, and said, ’What is in parcel?’

Though a bit surprised by her directness, I was pleased at the conversation, and I replied, ’A bottle of wine - I got it for my husband.’

She nodded thoughtfully, seeming to approve, and then replied, ’A good trade.’

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Comment by Mike Handley on July 13, 2012 at 7:20pm

New one on me, too. I like it.

Comment by Robert Morschel on July 13, 2012 at 1:43am
I heard this today for the first time, and thought to write my own version.

#nothingnewunderthesun
Comment by Gita on July 12, 2012 at 9:08pm

I've heard this before, actually several times.

Comment by Angela on July 12, 2012 at 5:47pm

Oh!  Got me.

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