We stopped in the Hannaford’s supermarket in Windham on Friday evening — it’s open until 11, we were there by 9:40 even after standing in a long line at the Burger King at the Kennebunk rest area to get a cup of coffee, and we knew there wasn’t any OJ, milk, nor eggs in the Casco house. We were about set to check out when a woman came up and asked, “Do you shop here often? Do you know how the store is layed out? Where’s the the toothpaste?” The fact is we’ve stoped there four or five times, and we do have a vague idea of how the store is set up. I had noticed the health and beauty aids section, as it seems to be called these days, a moment before and I pointed it out to her.
I giggled as soon as she was halfway there. It reminded me of when we were in Rome five years ago, walking from our hotel to the Spanish Steps which were a couple of blocks away, and a young woman stopped us and asked, “Scusi, dove gli Scali Spagni?” in an American accent. I just said, “Diretto!” (“straight ahead”), she said, “Grazi”, went on, and I cracked up (under my breath of course.) Everyone in Rome was an American tourist. It would have been easier on both of us in English.