Overheard
A week in NYC always makes returning to Sacramento more than a little difficult. One thing I forgot how much I missed about a big, bustling city is the inevitability of eavesdropping as you go about a normal day. At MoMA on Friday, while looking at photographs by Berndt and Hilla Becher, which I like very much, I overheard a woman saying to a man beside her, “These are boring. These are insulting to me as a viewer.” You just don’t hear stuff like that around Sactown.
It reminded me and Andrew of two of our favorite comments we overheard American tourists saying abroad:
In a Madrid shop full of knick knacks: An American man entered, glanced around, then announced loudly to the entire store, “Well, nothing here I can’t live without!” then left.
In a Krakow shop full of handmade wooden crafts: I was selecting a few small wooden birds when I overheard an American man talking to the salesclerk in a slow drawl. “Y’ever see an American dollar coin?” he asked her. I could only pray that he didn’t try to actually give her the coin.
Ah, humanity.
It reminded me and Andrew of two of our favorite comments we overheard American tourists saying abroad:
In a Madrid shop full of knick knacks: An American man entered, glanced around, then announced loudly to the entire store, “Well, nothing here I can’t live without!” then left.
In a Krakow shop full of handmade wooden crafts: I was selecting a few small wooden birds when I overheard an American man talking to the salesclerk in a slow drawl. “Y’ever see an American dollar coin?” he asked her. I could only pray that he didn’t try to actually give her the coin.
Ah, humanity.
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