I stopped at the butcher tonight to pick up a couple steaks for dinner. While the nice butcher man was serving me, some female butcher (who looked like she might be a college student) must have overheard me.
Her: Oh wow, are you from America?
Me: *reluctantly* Yeah. Originally.
Me: Yeah. I’m Australian now too.
Her: Oh! Well, how long have you been here?
Me: About eight years.
Her: Wow. Do you like it?
Me: *struggling to maintain composure* Yeah. Obviously.
Her: Is it really different here from where you lived in the States?
Me: *lying now* Not really. It’s pretty much the same.
Her: Oh! But the SPELLING is all different!
Me: *finally glaring* I’M. REALLY. GOOD. AT. SPELLING.
That was the dumbest conversation I’ve had in a loooong time. “Do you like it?” AFTER EIGHT YEARS?? It was like every stupid “you’re a foreigner” conversation I’ve ever had, all rolled into one. I really hate it. It suddenly makes me aware of being different. Most of the time I don’t even think about it, but these idiots always make me feel like an outsider.