The other day a woman in her early fifties decided to use me as her temporary psychologist. Why, I don't know. I think that sometimes, humans find more comfort and support in strangers than in friends and family. Sometimes, it's easier.
"Molly, I'm separated. I am going through my second divorce...."
I would put in my dialog, but as many conversations where I am the linguistically challenged one against a chatty monologuing Spanish woman, I usually end up saying less, little, or nothing at all.
"You know, not too long ago, divorce wasn't common in Spain. And, ooof, this is my second one! Imagine! My second!!"
"My first marriage, well, it was an American marriage, I was young and it didn't mean anything..."
.......
People all across the world keep amazing me in both positive and negative ways...
But I have to say... what is consistently the most amazing thing is how people, all over the world, think that they can say whatever the fuck they want about America and American culture, like they actually know anything about it. Yes you have been to New York City, congrats, and yes you have seen movies, but no that isn't me, that isn't my people, and that isn't my country.
In the end, it's all about big mouths and small ears.
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