It’s funny how both parties in a conversation can sometimes enjoy a faux-pas.

In Gregg’s bakery this afternoon (I use the term ‘bakery’ here quite loosely), I asked for “A jam donut and a Belgian”.

“A Belgian Bun?” the lady on the counter clarified.

Well, obviously. I don’t think they stock anything else claiming to be from Belgium. Waffles perhaps? I’ve never seen one there.

“No,” said I, “I’d like you to get me an actual Belgian man.”

She laughed politely and retrieved the bun. Though I bet inside she was dying.