Article voiceover
I’ve traveled on a Greyhound bus three times in my life and each time I met a different Indian but all three of them had a box of Ritz Crackers and shared them with me. We told Indian jokes and laughed loudly, as Indian are wont to do. We disturbed our fellow passengers but that was okay. We Indians don’t have the land anymore but we can still take up space. I don’t know if I’ll ever ride a Greyhound or meet a Ritz Indian again but I’m happy that I briefly knew three wise-ass men.
Delightful poem
Such a buttery cracker!