Weast of Wisconsin

[cosmolinguist]

"What the fuck you reading? Is that fucking book any good?"

I only caught a glimpse of him over the top of said book: wearing a dark-colored suit and with a few other men in similar dress, he either pointed vaguely at me or was just flailing his arms as he walked past.

I felt dumb and slow, jerked out of the pleasant cadences of Garrison Keillor's sentences for this, but I had enough time to say a small but sincere "Yes" before his head turned back to what was in front of him and no longer faced me.

I was sitting on a bench on Oxford Road. I had to meet Andrew when he was done with work to give him something and I was meeting up with people for belladonnalin's last night here; I had some time in between these two things, so I was just sitting there reading the book I carry around with me, which at the moment is We Are Still Married.

A bit later a guy walked up behind me--there was a little wall, maybe three feet high, behind the bench, and he leaned on that--and asked me what I was reading. I showed him the book and made the mistake of speaking as well, so he asked where I was from. I think he was having trouble with my accent, and I know I was having trouble with his, especially because he talked very fast. A simple conversation took us a long time.

A confused-looking man stopped when he saw me, but at least he started with a reasonable, good question: "Are you from around here?"

That was an easy one; I shook my head, raising my eyebrows at the same time because everyone knows that indicates bewilderment. "No, I'm not. Sorry."

He seemed disappointed. I suppose, he'd finally found a person on this road who wasn't moving, not riding a bike at him or honking a horn at him or anything, and then they turn out to be useless! "We're just looking for a good bar," he said. I shrugged, thinking I'd made myself seem sufficiently clueless already, and he and the other guy he was with started walking again.

Then someone riding his bike on the sidewalk stopped to ask me if I knew where Kashmiri Spices was. "No ... sorry." Then he asked me where I was from, too. He hadn't heard of Minnesota but said something about Wisconsin, so I told him Minnesota was next to that. He didn't seem to believe me.

"Yep, just west of there," I said. (I narrowly avoided saying "left." I had to think about it for a minute. Maybe I should've said it was "weast" of Wisconsin.)

"West ... " he repeated slowly. "West, that's ... that's toward ... " He hit his bike's handlebars with his palm, trying so hard to remember whatever it was trying to say. Me, I couldn't think of anything helpful; my brain only came up with "the ocean?", but that's because my brain forgets there's an ocean on the other side, too, probably because it's never seen that one (except in Wales). "Seattle!" he finished triumphantly.

I'd never thought of it before, but yes, that's entirely true: I live between Wisconsin and Seattle.

Then he asked me about my book, and I showed it to him (he even wanted to read what it said on the back) and he handed it back, saying, "I don't think I've read this one." I wasn't surprised, and thought he could give himself a break because I don't think all that many people know about Garrison Keillor, but when I tried to let him off the hook thusly he said that he thought he had heard of him.

I briefly speculated on the possibility that he was feigning interest to impress me. I won't say he was using Garrison Keillor and Wisconsin as a chat-up line, but I will say that he didn't seem to be in much of a hurry to get to Kashmiri Spices.

By that point, I was glad it was time to go meet my friends because I could hardly be left in peace to read a book for more than three minutes at a time! You Englishes sure are a gregarious lot!

Comments

[besskeloid.livejournal.com]

"What the fuck you reading? Is that fucking book any good?"

The silver-tongued charmer.

[cosmolinguist]

Yeah, I liked him best.

[innerbrat]

Bloody Northerners are so annoyingly friendly.

You should come down here. We never converse with anyone unless we have to.

[cosmolinguist]

This is by far the most interaction I've had with strangers here; I can't figure out why. I wasn't even looking for conversation--I didn't mind it, but I wasn't expecting it--I was just reading! Are books so remarkable? Is South Manchester nicer? Well, it is full of people from other places, and some of those places breed people who sometimes talk to one another. Theories abound, but evidence is insufficient so far.

[demiurgician.livejournal.com]

I get this kind of thing a lot--minus the weird random swearing. And just for future reference, Pure Space is a good bar, behind revolution across from Starbucks, and Kashmiri Spice is my favorite kebab shop, a bit further down from Kebabish :-)

[cosmolinguist]

Heh. I shall do my best to remember. :-)

[ezrael.livejournal.com]

All I know is, in Edinburg nobody talks to you at all.

[cosmolinguist]

I looked at this sentence for a while and then decided that what I thought was wrong with it is that it should be "In Edinburgh, no one can hear you scream." I blame sleep-deprivation.

Nobody ever talks to me here (well, occasionally to ask where something is, but even that's rather rare and doesn't start up a conversation like it did yesterday); that's why I thought it was so odd that everybody wanted to yesterday.

[paninogirl.livejournal.com]

Because of this entry, I am tempted to sit on a bench while in Dallas next week with a book to see if the Texans approach me in the same fashion. If I do, I shall document the outcome on my LJ as well. :)

[cosmolinguist]

Oo, that sounds like an interesting experiment. :-) You'll have to let me know how it turns out. Are you going already next week? Cool. I hope you have a good time, and I look forward to hearing about it on your LJ.