3 strikes, you're ugly

Was waiting in the parking lot across from Mountain Home Inn on Mt. Tam last Sunday to meet some friends and hike up to the pancake breakfast. There's a cabin about half way up the mountain where, once per month, they make giant pancakes and sausage. I think the procedes benefit some charitable group.

The weather that day was a lesson in bay area microclimatology: On my side of the mountain, it was clear and sunny and about 72. In the city it was foggy and about 62. On the ridge where I was parked the fog was rolling in so fast and hard it was condensing, and about 54.

I noticed a woman about to cross the street. She was just hanging in the parking lot, as was I.

Woman (incredulously): Are you going hiking today?

Me: Yes, I'll be hiking up to the pancake breakfast with some friends.

Woman: Where is this breakfast?

Me: At a cabin about halfway up the mountain from here.

Woman (removing pack of cigarettes with funny writing on them): In the mountains it's so hot, and here it's freezing and you can't smoke in the restaurants or in the hotel rooms.

Me:

Woman (lighting up and taking a puff):

Me:

Woman (giving flirty eyes):

Me (noticing funny writing on cigarettes): So where are you from?

Woman: Israel

Me: Look, my friends