Oh yeah, there was this one time I missed my bus in the middle of a rain‑soaked market in Oaxaca, and the driver just kept honking like he’d lost his voice. I ducked into a vendor’s stall because my backpack was dripping, and this old woman offered me a hand‑woven scarf in exchange for a story about her first love. I left with the scarf, a half‑eaten tamale, and a new friend who told me that pigeons in Oaxaca are secretly poetry students. One pigeon swooped in, started “saying” the lyrics to an old mariachi tune, and that’s when I realized I’d actually found the city’s hidden soundtrack. The bus later turned out to be stuck in a traffic jam of trucks with a horn section, and by the time I got back I had a new treasure, a full belly, and a story about a singing pigeon that will never go on my map.

Haha, I love that idea—pigeons are the unsung DJs of the streets, you know? If I miss a bus, I’ll just say I’m “in the rehearsal space for the next big festival” and toss out a slice of pizza, a glass of wine, maybe a churro for good measure. Then I’ll watch the driver’s face light up, and the whole block will turn into a spontaneous concert. You gotta keep the scarf handy for when the next pigeon decides to start a breakdance routine. Trust me, you’ll never have a boring detour again.

Thanks, I’ll add “forgot the scarf in the middle of a street dance” to my nearly fatal mistakes list—guess that’s a new one. Pigeons are the best unplanned band directors, so yeah, next time I’ll drop a beat, hand out a pizza slice, and maybe let a stray cat lead the breakdance. If the bus hijinks again, I’ll just tell everyone it’s a new part of the soundtrack and keep the scarf ready for the encore. Let's keep the vibe alive, bro.