The Nastiest Tourist

Americans are fabulous hosts. Everywhere we've been over the past two weeks has been living proof of an outgoing and generous nature.

Mind you, we've been Totally Tourist: Universal Studios; San Diego Zoo; Las Vegas Strip; Grand Canyon; Yosemite; Marina Del Rey; San Francisco; Napa Valley; expensive restaurants; moderate eateries (not ONE fast food chain!!!); and hotels. Places where any self-respecting citizen wouldn't be caught dead unless they had out-of- town relatives drop by.

It's ALL been good, althought that could be said for any place I don't have to cook or do laundry. Trundling along on this tourist high, wide-eyed and awed, I find myself at the lookout tower at the exit from Grand Canyon, learning a little about katsinas (or kachinas, as they are sometimes spelled). George Yellow, a Navajo (Dine) is explaining the meanings of them when this large, sweaty paw comes out of the sky over my head and grabs the doll I was looking at.

I spun around to give the "teacher glare", but was completely ignored by this pot-bellied, thin-lipped, balding, squinty-eyed beast who demanded in a heavily accented guidebook English "how this cost?".

George looked at him, and looked at me. Big Fat Sweaty Tourist must have assumed he wasn't understood, so he was more insistent; "how much dollars this cost?".

I was too overwhelmed by his rudeness to actually say anything, so George told him $90, he took it "I buy" and left. I don't think I got much out but a tongue-tied "but...but..." George simply raised his eyebrows. I did buy another one, and thanked George for his educating me, and left, cursing like the miner's daughter I really am. This, of course, didn't go over well with my own audience, who promptly told me I should have yelled at Big Fat Sweaty Tourist instead.

How true it is that each one of us becomes an ambassador for our countries when we travel. Meanwhile, may the gods of corn grow some painful ones on Big Fat Sweaty Tourist's feet.