January 15th, 2015

beartato phd

(no subject)

The following story, a delightful (at least to me) object lesson on the fluidity of geographic/cultural identity, happened to me the other day and I realized I'd forgotten to write it down:

I'm at an italian restaurant I like and go to semi-often in park slope. Often enough that I'm just barely a familiar face; they know what I always get. One of the people on the staff (one I also recognize) is chatting with some other customers, polite where're-you-froms, the customers are from Moscow, she says she's originally from Seoul. Some comments about cold weather --- being from russia, they're used to it, but still don't like it, ha-ha.

Later on, I also find myself chatting politely with the korean woman that works there, mention I'm from the midwest, so I feel the same way about the cold as the other couple. "Really?" she says, "where in the midwest". I say I'm from Madison. "Get out! I used to live in Milwaukee*. Where are you watching the Packers game tomorrow?"

I laugh nervously and mumble something that could maybe be interpreted as implying that I'm going to watch the football game (which I had literally zero idea was happening before she mentioned it) at home. She recommends a Packers bar somewhere in the west village. I eventually cop to, ahem, overselling my sports enthusiasm --- "ennnnh I'm actually not *that* into football".

Her face is bemused disgust, and she mutters under her breath. All I hear is "not really from wisconsin", and she spins on her heel, back to the kitchen.

(Separately, and equally heretically, I think at this point if forced to choose, I'd be a Stillers fan :3 )

But I will defend myself by saying that I am from Wisconsin, and I therefore understand that it is vitally important that you at least pretend to be interested in football.