Strange moments in commuting
So there I was, on the Orange line on my way to meet up with the wife. I was reading my book (Wicked), when the lady next to me taps me on the shoulder.
Me: "Yes?"
Her: "Are you Jewish?"
Me: Blink blink. "No."
Her: "Oh. Are you Greek?"
Me: Blink Blink Blink. "No."
Her: "Oh." Takes a long hard look at me. "What are you?"
Me: "Hispanic." I go back to reading my book, hoping that this impromptu census interview is over.
Of course, I should have answered "Irish" or "Canuck" or "Mutt" or even just plain "American," but I really just wanted her to stop talking to me.
Commuting time is not for conversations. It's a time to avoid eye contact, maybe catch a little sleep, and do some reading. Is that really too much to ask?
I should probably note that this isn't the first time someone's tried to guess my ethnicity and been terribly horribly wrong. My all time favorite is a waitress at a Japanese steak house asking me if I was 1/2 Japanese.
Me: "Yes?"
Her: "Are you Jewish?"
Me: Blink blink. "No."
Her: "Oh. Are you Greek?"
Me: Blink Blink Blink. "No."
Her: "Oh." Takes a long hard look at me. "What are you?"
Me: "Hispanic." I go back to reading my book, hoping that this impromptu census interview is over.
Of course, I should have answered "Irish" or "Canuck" or "Mutt" or even just plain "American," but I really just wanted her to stop talking to me.
Commuting time is not for conversations. It's a time to avoid eye contact, maybe catch a little sleep, and do some reading. Is that really too much to ask?
I should probably note that this isn't the first time someone's tried to guess my ethnicity and been terribly horribly wrong. My all time favorite is a waitress at a Japanese steak house asking me if I was 1/2 Japanese.