Is there a sign on my forehead saying "Agace-moi"?

You hear a lot of stories about how Americans in Europe are easy targets for pickpockets and other criminals because of our easy, outgoing nature. Allegedly we walk around with dopey smiles on our faces and every Saimon, Alessio and Igor knows to take advantage of us.

This might be true for other Americans -- maybe the corn-fed, small-town Midwestern cheerleader, or the red-necked, double-denimed hick -- but I don't think it's the same for me. I've spent enough time on the streets and subways of New York to know that an open face leads to an empty purse, and consequently, I'm usually stony-faced or scowling as I hurry to and from my various destinations.

Something must have been different today. As I walked toward the bank, heart a-pounding at the mere thought of them being difficult as usual, a tiny old woman with chin hairs approached me.

"Maison de la Retraite!" she muttered. I couldn't just walk on by -- she was a bubbe! -- but I also had no idea what she wanted (and the chin hairs were distracting me).

"Pardon?" I asked. She repeated herself. I was still clueless, so I explained to her that I am etrangere and didn't understand. Was she looking for a particular street? Well, yes, of course she was, where was it? Her shortness of speech was abrasive and extremely off-putting (as were the chin hairs) and I told her I couldn't help her and moved on.

Of course, after the bank was unhelpful and rude, I was briskly trying to cross the street when a breathless man stopped me in the middle of the road and babbled something about a car being en panne. It was too fast to make out, so I just opted straight for the etrangere route -- and then he started speaking in English (very bad English). Evidently he had forgotten his bank card and needed some money for gas and did I have three euros? No, I did not, and look, the light has turned green and we're about to get run over, bye.

Flustered, I continued home, trying to figure out if there was something out of the ordinary today that made me so approachable, when suddenly I heard grunts from across the street. Stupidly, I looked over to see a man with a cigarette in his mouth waving a box of matches. Was he asking for a light? Did he want to share a smoke with me? I have no freaking clue, because I was so sick of stopping in the middle of my rush to try and comprehend people that I just shook my head and kept going.

I mean, damn! What is going on today? I am already stressed out as hell, wrapped up in my own thoughts, and I don't think that I look particularly friendly! So what gives? I just want to be left alone already! I am so fucking annoyed.


But I don't want to end this post on a bad note, so instead I'll post you a nice picture I took this weekend in Carcassonne.







Isn't it beautiful? This was around sunrise, taken from the Pont Vieux on my way into the lower city.








I hope we will have the opportunity to take many such pictures together, very soon!

xxxAnnie