Mr. Yoy and I hit up a foot spa before gorging ourselves at Local Three.
Mr. Yoy and I sat side by side as we had our foot massages. I had almost passed out when my foot rubber began whispering to me. There are other people in the room so talking is a no-no.
IN A WHISPER:
WHERE ARE YOU FROM?
I came out of my coma to process his question.
Wrong answer for this guy.
WHERE ARE YOU FROM, ORIGINALLY?
He must have heard tinges of my mother tongue, the Midwestern accent.
OH, ST. LOUIS.
Still, not the answer he was looking for.
NO, WHERE DID YOU COME FROM? I TOLD MY FRIEND YOU WERE EASTERN EUROPEAN.
This guy was going all ancestry.com on me. Good thing I've done my research.
YES, MY FAMILY IS FROM THE UKRAINE.
He was pleased with this answer and told me how beautiful I was. I guess he didn't realize my husband was sitting next to me or maybe he thought he could whisper it and not get into trouble.
He then began using some Russian words and it was then that I had to break his little heart.
I DON'T SPEAK RUSSIAN. SORRY. MY FAMILY HAS BEEN HERE SINCE ST. LOUIS HOSTED THE WORLDS FAIR IN 1904.