Cross-subcultural experiences of quail
So I ran into this woman on campus the other day. Middle-aged, white, fairly professional in dress but "casual." I was briskly walking down the path, slightly late for class. There were a bunch of these funny little birds we have on campus strutting around. She whispers to me: "Shh! Quail!" I don't know what to do. I'm late. I know I'm not going to scare these birds off very far. I've walked by them dozens of times, and they just keep clucking around. I'm slightly peeved. I'm late for class. She's just some fucking tourist or an undergrad's mom. She can chase quail around all day, that's cool, I got places to git. But I also don't want a confrontation. I end up walking, just as quickly and loudly, out of my way in a weird circle up a hill around the woman. I hope that it looks like I'm avoiding the quail, but I'm really mainly avoiding her.
She can see I'm nonplussed, so she adds as I try to escape: "They're so cute!" My heart melts a bit, towards her, not the birds, and I feel bad that I've been so peevish. I return a smile-smirk. One second elapses, in which I think: "So, THOSE are QUAIL!" I'm awful, you see, when it comes to identifying birds and plants and anything in my natural world, although there's plenty of it on my campus. Another second elapses, and I think of what I wanted to say to the woman: "You know, in my home state, grown men think it's great sport to go out shooting them." That would have deflated her humorously enough.
Those grown men are pretty weird to me. The woman was pretty weird to me. But then I am probably pretty weird, even to the point of noninterpretable, to them.
She can see I'm nonplussed, so she adds as I try to escape: "They're so cute!" My heart melts a bit, towards her, not the birds, and I feel bad that I've been so peevish. I return a smile-smirk. One second elapses, in which I think: "So, THOSE are QUAIL!" I'm awful, you see, when it comes to identifying birds and plants and anything in my natural world, although there's plenty of it on my campus. Another second elapses, and I think of what I wanted to say to the woman: "You know, in my home state, grown men think it's great sport to go out shooting them." That would have deflated her humorously enough.
Those grown men are pretty weird to me. The woman was pretty weird to me. But then I am probably pretty weird, even to the point of noninterpretable, to them.