Tidbits from Houston
Me 0, US Customs 1
Customs Agent: Where are you headed?
Me: Uh, Houston.
Customs Agent: For what purpose?
Me (racking my brain and it shows on my face): Business.
Customs Agent: What do you do?
Me (looking like he asked me to explain the Theory of Relativity): Stuff.
Customs Agent frowns.
Me (mimicking typing): Stuff…stuff with…
Customs Agent: Computers?
Customs Agent: You’re not a morning person, are you?
Me (dangerously close to pouting): No.
Canucks are classified as homo sapiens, too
Waiter: You’re taking a late lunch.
Me: I just got off a plane. I missed breakfast and lunch. I need food.
Waiter: Oh, where are you from?
Waiter: Wow! You don’t look Canadian.
Me: Well, we pretty much look like you guys…but without the accent.
Waiter: I don’t have an accent.
Me: You have a slight drawl. To my ear, anyone outside of New York and California has an accent.
Me: Years of watching Seinfeld.
Waiter: You get that up there?
Me: (biting my tongue)
Luckily, the lobster was excellent; the crème brûlée was three-times the size of what I would get in Canada and Europe; and one of the other waiters–tall, dark, and accented–is originally from France, so he and I spent a good thirty minutes reminiscing about life in Europe. We both agreed Germany is the party capital of Europe because everything there is dirt cheap, especially beer.
Pedestrians are not speed bumps
In the parking lot of the Galleria on Westheimer.
My friend: Why are you stopping?
Me: So that lady can cross.
My friend: She’s supposed to wait for you to go. You don’t stop for pedestrians!
Me: Pedestrians have the right of way, and we were only delayed by five seconds.
My friend (shaking his head): You’re such a Canadian.
Me: Calgarian. A Torontonian would’ve run her over.
It’s me and I’m not giving you the finger
Later as I’m driving him home.
My friend: Who are you waving to?
Me: I’m waving thank you to the driver of the truck behind us. He slowed down to let me merge.
My friend: This is Texas. He probably thinks you’re giving him the finger.
My boss will regret making me represent him
If Buckcherry’s “Crazy Bitch” is your cell phone ring tone, it might be prudent to mute the ringer during meetings.
I attract weirdness
While in line to order lunch, a woman in one of the meetings I had to sit through comes up beside me.
Woman: I’ve been watching you all day.
Me (discreetly searching for security): Oh.
Woman: You’re so little and cute! I want to put you in my pocket and take you home with me.
Me: Uh, thank you?
Woman: Are you Canadian?
Me (brow puckering confusion and a little fear): Yes.
Later, I relate the conversation to my friend.
My friend: She’s going to go home and tell her family all Canadians are little and cute.
Later still, I relate the conversation to the significant other.
SO: Is she hot?
Me (rolling my eyes): You are such a guy.
SO (grinning): As long as you keep noticing.
Healthy does not mean tasteless
For the last three years, I’ve been on a mission to find good sushi in Houston and I’m happy to announce I finally found it at Aka on Eldridge Pkwy. Also, people now no longer look at me like I’ve lost my mind when I ask for my vegetables steamed and not sautéed. Ordering V8, however, still raises eyebrows.