Elizabeth Bennett and I were in Banska Biastrica, a really lovely town in the mountains of central Slovakia. After tea in an old tower served by a Slovak with her nose pierced and dreadlocks (speaking of, I really like those haircuts that are sort of asymmetrical, with a little bit of extra hair on one side; if/when I get a shortcut, I think I would like that), and which we drank sitting on a padded floor with lots of cushions and low tables, we were walking back to our bus. On the way, we passed a darling old man, who I know the Sartorialist would have loved. I said to Elizabeth, "I would love to take a picture of him."
El: "You really want to? I'll ask him."
El: "You really want to? I'll ask him."
Em, inspired by El's daring: "Yes!"
El: "Old man, may my friend take your picture?"
OM: "I don't really know how to work those machines." (Remember, the Old Man is 80-ish. He thought we wanted him to take our picture, which is just delightful, given how many young tech-savy people were around.)
OM: "I don't really know how to work those machines." (Remember, the Old Man is 80-ish. He thought we wanted him to take our picture, which is just delightful, given how many young tech-savy people were around.)
El: "No, no--she wants to take a picture of you."
OM: "Why would she want that?"
El: "She's American [i.e. capable of all strange things] and wants a picture of some natives [for some reason Slovaks don't strike me as 'natives']."
El: "She's American [i.e. capable of all strange things] and wants a picture of some natives [for some reason Slovaks don't strike me as 'natives']."
OM: "I don't really think I'll fit in the picture."
El: "She'll take care of that."
At which point, the OM got a cute look on his face, sat his cane straight up, and posed for the picture.
No comments:
Post a Comment