You go into these prefabricated places expecting (and rarely disappointed in that expectation) to find prefabricated people. Such was Rudi’s, so I assumed that this airport bar-esque joint would be populated by folks that at least would understand the airport bar etiquette wherein dude-that-goes-off-by-self isn’t looking to make friends with anyone but his beer. But, nooooooooooooooo….
I set the camera up to shoot the obligatory 100/100 shot (number 75) and was checking out the shitty results with some glee when this Scotsman comes up and asks if I want him to take a photo for me.
“No, I got it, thanks.” Thinking that would be the end of it.
“But, you were just setting it up on the table and…” but I cut him off with a wave of the hand.
“They’re better when they’re bad.”
“But,” he started.
“I said this suits my purpose, for fuck sake.” But this didn’t put him off either; folks are friendlier the further north you go but I think that just makes them let their retards out unsupervised.
“Oh. Hey! Where are you from? I can detect an accent. Are you Canadian?”
“Yeah, okay, we’ll go with that,” I said while pounding down 2/3 of the pint I had originally hoped to linger over.
“Oh, where then?”
“Look, pal, I’m from Atlanta,” then I burped, stood, and turned my chair completely away from him. Another table full of Americans (where are all these fucking foreigners coming from, anyway?) seemed either amused or nervous but at least they shut up.
“Oh, Georgia, huh?” I turned and had to laugh at this giant, grinning moron. “I changed planes at the airport there once.”
“That’s the place to do it.”
Returning my blessedly empty glass to the barmaid, I said thanks and that it had been a pleasure.
The Endless British Pub Crawl 
Bad day at the office ? 🙂
He thought you were Canadian? You must have been flattered!
And, I thought he was a ‘tard which probably flattered him.