Wednesday, September 23, 2009

We're Not in Kansas Anymore

I've had plenty of opportunities to be reminded myself that I'm not from around here (getting lost frequently, as previously mentioned; having to ask customers to repeat themselves because I don't understand their accent or they are talking too quickly; not being able to find core menu items like Ro-Tel and chili beans at the grocery store; etc.), but I think I just had my first moment where someone else realized that I was not from around here on Monday.

K. and I took a trip to the bi-level Wal-Mart in White Plains. We parked in the parking garage, got a cart, and approached the elevators to go into Wal-Mart. An elevator came and we headed towards it along with a middle-aged man who was using a cane to help him walk. The person who had called the elevator got in and let the doors close without waiting for either of the other parties trying to make it to the door to get on. As the doors closed, I said to K., "I can't believe she didn't wait for us!" The gentleman with the cane apparently thought I was addressing him and said, "You really expected her to?" with an air of incredulity, looking at me is if I were crazy. I said, "Well, I'm from the south. We're polite like that."

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