On my way home from school today, I needed to get milk. I was determined not to go anywhere that wasn’t directly on my way home, because the weather was ridiiiiiculous today. Wet, slapping wind, basically. I’m so happy to have my red raincoat. Even with the raincoat, though, I was walking around feeling kind of like a wet cat all day. Anyway, I stopped in the corner store at the end of my block to buy the smallest container of milk I could find (a quart!), and had this exchange:
Dude: Is that all?
Me: Yep. Oh, and I don’t need a bag.
Dude: Oh, ok. You probably don’t need a straw either?
Me: [laughing, as per usual] Nope, no straw.
Dude: I don’t know if anyone has ever told you this…has anyone ever told you you look Italian?
Me: [more laughing] No! I’ve never heard that!
Dude: Well, no offense…
Me: None taken! I’m not, though.
Dude: Well, it’s just like, your face, the beauty, you know…it’s just very Italian.
Aaaawww…you mean like this?
Yes, I’m sure that’s who he was thinking of. Does this mean I can get a 14 year contract with Lancome now?
This was also funny because a couple months ago in JFK, some guy came up to me saying something I couldn’t understand, in a language that sounded like it was written with a different alphabet. I was like, “I’m sorry?” and he goes, “Do you speak Russian?” Hm, since when did I become a member of the Ambiguously Ethnic Club? It’s so exciting to be fake exotic.
