Tree
Here's a pic of our favorite swimming hole.
Yesterday I finally succumbed to repeated requests to go shopping in town.
Chinese take out, tobacco shoppe, video game store, and finally, Walmart.
I left the Firebird in the check out line to unload the carts (yes, two again...) and escorted the Willow to the ladies room. I'll not persue that part of the topic, as I personally detest public rest rooms, especially those at walmart. :(
When we returned to the line, the two young men ahead of us caught my eye, as the further one requested cigarettes and they both looked quite young. The cashier and I exchanged looks, and she asked him for ID. ONe has to be over 18 to purchase tobacco products.
There was some confused looks from the young man, and finally he asked in a heavy accent, "passport?", to which the teller shook her head, not understanding him.
I interjected, "passport, can he use a passport?" and she replied , "yes," so he handed it over and she started examining it.
The young man was quite blonde and rather Nordic looking, and a red blush was bursting up his neck to his cheekbones.
Handing back the passport, the cashier looked at the second young man and asked for his passport, as well. He was quite confused, and finally gave her his passport in turn. I asked, "Where are they from...?" and then to the guys, as they turned to me,"Where are you from?"
"Russia" they replied. I thought that was really cool and gave them a nod and a big smile.
The cigarette purchase completed, one pack of Marlboro Menthol-disgusting!-the closer of the two young men turned to me and said, in very broken English, that the pack was much more expensive here in the US than in Russia! At least that is how I understood what he said. But, we have a huge tobacco tax up here in Maine, as well.
As they walked away, I realized that I knew something in Russian, but my mind drew a blank and I was left with my standard, "By-----eeeeee!"
As soon as they were out of earshot, I remembered, "Das Vedanya."
Here's a pic of our favorite swimming hole.
Yesterday I finally succumbed to repeated requests to go shopping in town.
Chinese take out, tobacco shoppe, video game store, and finally, Walmart.
I left the Firebird in the check out line to unload the carts (yes, two again...) and escorted the Willow to the ladies room. I'll not persue that part of the topic, as I personally detest public rest rooms, especially those at walmart. :(
When we returned to the line, the two young men ahead of us caught my eye, as the further one requested cigarettes and they both looked quite young. The cashier and I exchanged looks, and she asked him for ID. ONe has to be over 18 to purchase tobacco products.
There was some confused looks from the young man, and finally he asked in a heavy accent, "passport?", to which the teller shook her head, not understanding him.
I interjected, "passport, can he use a passport?" and she replied , "yes," so he handed it over and she started examining it.
The young man was quite blonde and rather Nordic looking, and a red blush was bursting up his neck to his cheekbones.
Handing back the passport, the cashier looked at the second young man and asked for his passport, as well. He was quite confused, and finally gave her his passport in turn. I asked, "Where are they from...?" and then to the guys, as they turned to me,"Where are you from?"
"Russia" they replied. I thought that was really cool and gave them a nod and a big smile.
The cigarette purchase completed, one pack of Marlboro Menthol-disgusting!-the closer of the two young men turned to me and said, in very broken English, that the pack was much more expensive here in the US than in Russia! At least that is how I understood what he said. But, we have a huge tobacco tax up here in Maine, as well.
As they walked away, I realized that I knew something in Russian, but my mind drew a blank and I was left with my standard, "By-----eeeeee!"
As soon as they were out of earshot, I remembered, "Das Vedanya."
No comments:
Post a Comment