It's 11 pm on friday night and the partying has only just started. She is tall, blonde and has had one too many slices of pizza from the dinner they had down at La Porchetta. She signals to her boy friend, who is waiting to get a drink. They will have to drive out to some service station to use the washroom, the one in the club being almost always occupied at this time.
By the time they drive upto the service station she is.. well, busting to go. Asking the boy friend to wait for her in the shop, she runs gingerly towards the washroom, throwing a side long glance to find a skinny Indian fellow behind the counter. Now, she hates to use these public washrooms and never uses them unless she definitely has to. As soon as she enters the washroom she is reminded rather immediately, why she hates them so much. Its very badly maintained, is over-used on friday nights by the many youngsters coming down from the club much like her and most frustratingly the tissues have been used up. Now she has to go all the way into the shop, ask for the tissues, wait for the guy at the counter to get them and... aaah, why today ??
As she awkwardly half runs towards the counter, the Indian guy smiles nervously at her, greeting. "The washroom has run out of tissues". A statement. She does not find the need to ask for some action explicitly.. because it is rather obvious. The guy at the counter does not go anywhere, doesnt grab a tissue from beneath the counter - he simply looks puzzled. Now, why would he look puzzled? She is pretty sure he heard her right, it is rather quite in the store. She repeats herself impatiently to be sure. The same look - if anything he looks a bit more puzzled now, and may be slightly alarmed. She starts to fear he might not speak any english at all, when he looks as if he might have had some new realization. "I have only just started working here, and I have no idea where the tissues are. so.. ", he looks around the counter, grabs a box of.. facial tissues, holds it out for her, rose flavored and all.
Now, she could shout, scream and throw a tantrum at the outrageousness, but for the little emergency she is in. She quickly evaluates her options - looks the other way at the boy friend, who is still getting a drink on the other side of the store oblivious of the whole scene, looks at the guy at the counter, grabs the box and runs away for the washroom... never to be seen again around the service station....
By the time they drive upto the service station she is.. well, busting to go. Asking the boy friend to wait for her in the shop, she runs gingerly towards the washroom, throwing a side long glance to find a skinny Indian fellow behind the counter. Now, she hates to use these public washrooms and never uses them unless she definitely has to. As soon as she enters the washroom she is reminded rather immediately, why she hates them so much. Its very badly maintained, is over-used on friday nights by the many youngsters coming down from the club much like her and most frustratingly the tissues have been used up. Now she has to go all the way into the shop, ask for the tissues, wait for the guy at the counter to get them and... aaah, why today ??
As she awkwardly half runs towards the counter, the Indian guy smiles nervously at her, greeting. "The washroom has run out of tissues". A statement. She does not find the need to ask for some action explicitly.. because it is rather obvious. The guy at the counter does not go anywhere, doesnt grab a tissue from beneath the counter - he simply looks puzzled. Now, why would he look puzzled? She is pretty sure he heard her right, it is rather quite in the store. She repeats herself impatiently to be sure. The same look - if anything he looks a bit more puzzled now, and may be slightly alarmed. She starts to fear he might not speak any english at all, when he looks as if he might have had some new realization. "I have only just started working here, and I have no idea where the tissues are. so.. ", he looks around the counter, grabs a box of.. facial tissues, holds it out for her, rose flavored and all.
Now, she could shout, scream and throw a tantrum at the outrageousness, but for the little emergency she is in. She quickly evaluates her options - looks the other way at the boy friend, who is still getting a drink on the other side of the store oblivious of the whole scene, looks at the guy at the counter, grabs the box and runs away for the washroom... never to be seen again around the service station....
2 Responses to "Shocking a culture - What NOT to do as an immigrant"
August 28, 2008 at 2:12 PM
nice narration.
and btw, do you know me? have we met?
prasanna is such a common name in the part of india where i grew up and hence i cudnt put a face to your name right now, though many faces come to my mind. sorry.
August 28, 2008 at 3:41 PM
Hi Ganesh.. Thanks for the comment..
No no, I don't think I know you.. just ended up in your blog from some other one.. Will visit again !
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