Habla Ingles?

Last night after work, Bryanless because he decided to go get a haircut after work, and cause it's good to sleep apart once in a while so we remember what it's like to sleep diagonally (I'm probably just speaking for myself there), I headed to WalMart to buy some things for the house. I have not been to WalMarts everywhere, so i don't know what the usual experience is, but in Framingham, home to a HUGE Brazilian population, WalMart is a swarming, disorganized, non-English-speaking space. I really do like it in there because of all the noise and bustle, but it can be overwhelming, so I usually walk in the front doors, tuck my head, gather what I need and head to the line with the least children. This night, I ended up in the 10 items or less, having only grabbed Q-tips, a shelf organizer, Pepcid Complete (which I was almost tempted to take to get me through the stress of a Framingham WalMart line), and Band-Aids. The line was 14 people deep, most with just a few items. Not too bad.

I continued to keep my head down and stand quietly in line while the lovely buzz of Portuguese and Spanish and an Indian dialect whirled around me. Eventually a woman got in line behind me with a shopping carriage and 4 kids. The middle two scamps decide it would be fun to push the cart into the back of my legs to amuse the child in the carriage seat. I turned around the first time and smiled. The second time I looked at the mom who smiled back at me indulgently,nodding, as if her progeny were bringing me a side of joy with my bruises. The third time I asked them to please stop; received only giggling in response. The fourth time, I moved to lean against the counter, with a big sigh. They stopped torturing me at this point having found some candy to whine about acquiring from their mom, and I was free. However, my move to the counter, put me closer to the man in front of me. He looked back at me and smiled. I smiled back than put my head back down.
He tapped my hand and asked,
"Habla Ingles? American?"
I answered: "Yes, I speak English. I'm American."
He replied: "Espagnol? Portuguese?"
Me: "No"
Done. End of interaction.
Nope. He then said,
"Born America?"
Me: "Yes."
"I like America. Good"
Me: "Yes, it's a nice country."
"Work, travailo. In America."
Me: smile, nod, break eye contact.
Pointing at me, "Married?"
Me, staring, thinking quickly, "Yes"
Finger snap in disappointment, "Oh. Bad."
I then avoided all eye-contact, eventually got up to the cashier and got the hell out of WalMart before someone tried to give me one of their children.

I really do love the melting pot that is America, and Framingham, in particular, but I find it wildly amusing that I can go to WalMart to buy toiletries and almost end up legless or married.

Attended my first all-staff meeting at work today for which I had actually received an agenda for before-hand. It started on time, ended on time and was filled with interesting information and some good discussion. Granted, like most staff meetings, nothing was resolved and more planning was planned, but it wasn't too painful and everyone participated. At the end of the meeting lunch had been delivered for everyone. Tasty!