Sunday, May 07, 2006

Some nights the world seems to conspire about how little I belong here, no matter how much I do.

Solicitous people in bars asking after my height in ways that dozens of people haev asked before.

OK, so, I find out this one person is a barrista at a coffee shop I frequent--and then it gets mentioned that I am a source of wonderment to the staff due to the fact that I order Lapsang Souchong without pretense, and without being a fifteen year-old Goth. (I blame Nick for this. Not for the not-being-a-Goth thing, mind.)

And then, I'm walking home drunk from the bars, past the location of a bar my parents met in, and some locals ask me if I have a car. "No." is the extent of my response, as I turn the corner, a hundred yards (less, even!) from the house in which I was raised.
The immediate response: "You German or something?"
Me: I was raised right over there, man."

He laughed and disappeared with his friends. But even in the Old North End of my childhood, I'm still a foreigner? Seems kind of harsh. Guess I'll just switch back to Czech for a while.


Agnes said...

Europe'll welcome you. And if not the continent, at least people like Piia and myself

santoritimes said...

or you could come to the south. Here there's a small expat community of natives, ostracized because of their inability to sound like assholes from hee-haw.

Agnes said...

And what's up with me being 'courageous'?

The Earthtopus said...

Beg pardon?

Better Red than (brain)Dead said...

I always order Lapsang Souchong--that smokey tea is the stuff, I'm telling you. Order it proudly, without pretense.

The Earthtopus said...

's what I do.

Mmm, bacon tea.