my second cousin's dogsitter's ex-best friend's sister...visited London once

I volunteered last night at the Shakespeare Tavern in downtown Atlanta where they were performing A Comedy of Errors. The tavern is modelled after the Globe but for the fact that instead of space for groundlings or plain seats, it looks like a restaurant. I was working the house picking up trays and dishes-- being a friendly busgirl.

At one table a woman dropped her knife which hit her husband's foot, thereby kicking off a hilarious bit of banter about him getting stabbed in the foot. This of course led to that question I have so missed: "So where you from?"

I looked at them and replied, "Atlanta." They stared at me for a few seconds, not quite sure what to say so I decided to put them out of their misery.

"No, actually I come from England."

Silence. Geez, I don't mind being asked but if you are going to do it, have a follow-up question ready so you don't just stare at the freak from England. Finally came another demand: "So you in the play tonight?"

Do you think I am going to be in the play? After picking up your dirty greasy dishes? I know I have the accent but there is a lot more to Shakespeare than faking an accent.

They were actually a very sweet family and I am being unfair. But let's examine another conversation from the evening:

"So where you from?"
"England."
"Cool."
An hour later...
"So where in England you from?"
"Um," says I thinking oh dear God where in England am I from? Maybe I will just average my experiences.
"From just between London and Oxford."
"I have a couple of friends who live in England."
"Cool." (me too!)
"Er, one lives in London."
"Where in London?"
Ignoring the question, he continued, "And then there is this girl as well."
Ah ha, thought I, maybe this will get interesting now.
"A friend's sister's sister's second cousin, yeah she's the second cousin...she lives in a small village. It's, um, like about two hours, two hours southwest of London."
"Oh great."
"Oh damn, let's see, I have forgotten the name. It um, I think maybe it begins with-- with an 'e'?"
I was pleased to see that he looked rather sheepish by this point and put an end to the discussion with, "I am sure it exists, my geography isn't that great."

At this point I walked to the till and the conversation ended. Aaaaah! He was a nice guy and all, but I don't want to know about every person you know that has any kind of link with England. If your cousin went to Oxford, studied PPE, played women's football, and slept with someone from St. Anne's, then maybe consider telling me. Otherwise, don't do it!

Luckily I was quickly cheered as at the cash register, when my card didn't work, the cute caterer gave me my food for free. "This is not working. It's some English card. Hey, just don't worry about it." Sweet. Reminder to use that card more often.

Ok, so maybe I overreact about these conversations, but it does get ridiculous. I mean I could say, "Oh, so how do you know these people? That is absolutely great that you are forging some international friendships." But that might start sounding patronising. I think I just have to get used to being very weird again. I sometimes find myself getting insecure about the fact that whenever I speak to someone they look at me for a second or two like I might be clinically insane before actually responding. Or they whisper. At church on Sunday my dad said something to which I thought it necessary to reply, "Oh that's rubbish. Don't worry." The response from the group was a whispered, "Oh my god, she said rubbish!"

How cute. That's it. I am just too cute. Aw.