No habla.
written by Julie R. Neidlinger 2 comments link this postTomorrow evening I shall be sitting on a blanket at the capitol, enjoying the work of the bard.
I am hoping no one comes up and tries to talk to me, since I am socially retarded and won't have more than an "um" and "uh" to respond to them.
Once in a while, I have a breakthrough. As you may have read in my journals from my June trip to Nicaragua, I actually talked to a random stranger sitting next to me on the airplane.
I'm not sure how it happened, really, though I suspect foul play on a cosmic level. After all, seating me next to and expecting me to intelligently converse with a fellow who was a mechanic for NASCAR driver and on his way to some massive country music festival...I don't even have the same language. I don't know anything.
"No, I'm sorry. I don't recognize the name of the NASCAR team and driver you mentioned."
"Really?!!"
"I'm not really into NASCAR."
"But women love him! They all go nuts over him!"
"Hmm. Well, I've never heard of him. I'm sure he's very nice-looking. I just don't know."
It was a difficult segue into talking about classical music, and a short-lived conversation at that, but I managed it.
That made him quiet down.
I'm no dummy.
Copyright (c) Julie R. Neidlinger 7/16/2008 07:19:00 PM
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2 Comments:
Correct me if I'm wrong (like I even have to write that), but didn't you run up to a Kenyan runner this spring and verbally assault him? I seem to remember something like that. And that you weren't shy at all.
By 
Anna, at
17/7/08 07:44
He was a winner.
That's why.
By Julie R. Neidlinger, at
17/7/08 07:54
