© Brenda Cox

I’m so stupid.

A new country with my inflated American ego, thinking I could navigate easily.

I turned down an alleyway, but it was lined with vendors and it was crowded. Maybe it was a street. I attempted translating the menus on my iPhone.

Didn’t work.

I studied the food around me, well more like staring.

“Can I try that?” I asked loudly, pointing to something.

All I heard was a different language when he responded. I looked around noticing annoyed stares from hungry customers.

Now I understand.

My ego died that day.

Word Count: 93

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21 Thoughts

    1. Thank you Neil! And yours was great as well! I tried commenting, but it is giving me errors when I try and comment…on yours and CE’s. Darn Internet! But yours had me laughing, especially since I read CE’s before yours and you were right…he had a murder sewn up for us! lol

      Liked by 1 person

  1. Yup, been there, done that as well (and I’m not American). It’s enlightening even though it feels embarrassing at the time. Great story.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Well told. I was over 50 when I first traveled to a country that wasn’t primarily English- speaking. I asked my traveling companions to help me, and they were very glad to do so. Attitude is everything. I knew just enough German words to ask, “Was ist das, bitte?” from my high school days, and they seemed delighted that I asked in German. I’d read and heard enough about brash, noisy, rude Americans that I had no desire to join their ranks. And I do need to say, most of us try not to offend. It only takes one or two to paint us all with a black brush. Your main character–you?—learned very quickly, to her credit.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. No, not me. I have never travelled outside the US. I have just heard stories and tried to capture what it would be like and I wanted a possible redemptive arch to the story.

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