Wednesday, September 20, 2006
International Relations
I believe I was mocked by an entire elevator full of Germans yesterday.
I was heading down to get a cab voucher before leaving my office yesterday, and some sort of seminar was getting out as my elevator hit the 40th floor. (Judging from the participants I observed, it was either a body odor convention or a smugness seminar, I couldn't tell.) One by one, a group of Germans so stereotypical they may as well have been wearing lederhosen and carrying sauerkraut began packing into the elevator, apparently deeming it some sort of Teutonic Clown Car. They began speaking rapidly in German, but since my own fluency now expired about five years ago, all I could make out was an occasional "photographen" and "bier."
What I could clearly discern, however, was the enormous burst of laughter that followed my exit on the 37th floor. I briefly wondered if I had again forgotten to wear pants or if I was in fact Jennifer Lopez, but I could not find any satisfactory explanation for the merriment at my expense. Could it be that Germans hate me?
I guess I'll bear with it for now, but if I lose Luxembourg I'm really going to sweat it.
I believe I was mocked by an entire elevator full of Germans yesterday.
I was heading down to get a cab voucher before leaving my office yesterday, and some sort of seminar was getting out as my elevator hit the 40th floor. (Judging from the participants I observed, it was either a body odor convention or a smugness seminar, I couldn't tell.) One by one, a group of Germans so stereotypical they may as well have been wearing lederhosen and carrying sauerkraut began packing into the elevator, apparently deeming it some sort of Teutonic Clown Car. They began speaking rapidly in German, but since my own fluency now expired about five years ago, all I could make out was an occasional "photographen" and "bier."
What I could clearly discern, however, was the enormous burst of laughter that followed my exit on the 37th floor. I briefly wondered if I had again forgotten to wear pants or if I was in fact Jennifer Lopez, but I could not find any satisfactory explanation for the merriment at my expense. Could it be that Germans hate me?
I guess I'll bear with it for now, but if I lose Luxembourg I'm really going to sweat it.
