Do you know the dumpling man?

I just finished a run around my favorite river loop with a race against the dumpling man. I like to run at sunset because it finally starts to cool off.  While I run next to the river, I can watch the fishermen haul in their nets as the pink sun reflects on the water.  It's a narrow, rural path that brings me past shrimp farms, through rice paddies and, then, into a small village where I start to encounter people again.  I always get stares, waves and laughs.  I am an oddity, and I have gotten used to that fact - tall, pale, exercising in the heat.  There are a million reasons to laugh at me.  I have learned to just smile, wave back and keep on running.

Once I leave the village, it gets rural again for a few minutes, and I commune with the water buffalo and the ducks in the rice paddy.  This is where, today, I ran into the dumpling man.  He's the guy who sells steamed pork buns (with a variety of other undisclosed items stuffed inside) from a glass display case attached to a bicycle.  The whole rolling contraption has an awning hanging overhead.  He pedals his way from village to village selling his steamed buns and playing a catchy little tune on his speaker.  Tonight's tune was "Santa Clause is Coming to Town."  Typically I might be content to jog along behind the dumpling man until he turns from my path...no need to humiliate the poor guy.  I am sure that pedaling a rolling display case with an awning is much more difficult than just running.  However, when faced with the prospect of spending five minutes stuck behind this contraption listening to Christmas carols, I decided it was time to make a bold move. 

I veered from the path and attempted to give the dumpling man a wide berth as I ran around him (remember "Santa Clause is Coming to Town" is the soundtrack to this adventure).  I swear he looked at me with a mischievous little glint in his eye and put the pedal to the metal. He cranked it up and started racing me through the rice paddy...me on foot, the dumpling man pedaling his steamed buns off, and Santa Clause cheering us on.  I couldn't believe it.  I was irritated.  I just wanted to put a little distance between myself and the dumpling man and his annoying tune, and he was turning it into some kind of game.  Sadly, he also seemed to be winning.

I did what any proud runner would do under similar circumstances.  I took the first turn we came to and never looked back.  I had no idea where it would lead, but I was confident that anything it might offer in terms of obstacles would be better than listening to that song for the remainder of my run while dragging my tail between my legs as the dumpling man and his rolling roadside stand left me in the dust.  As I finished up my run at my own pace in peace and quiet, I just had to shake my head.  Surreal defines my world some days.