Not From Around Here

People are not friendly here.

A fellow from the next town down told us that was because some movie star came in, bought property and changed the tenor of the whole place – made to order Snootyville.

Whatever.

I live in a resort area. I know how annoying tourists, their titanic RVs, and stupid questions can be.

Is this the way to the lake?

Remember that bridge you crossed five miles back?

Yes.

That was the lake.

Still, I’ve never been rude to a tourist.

They’re on vacation.
They’re guests here.
They’re walking that way ‘cuz their head’s up their ass.

I didn’t say I liked them.

When we see someone so at odds with local norms (either by dress, speech or action) that they stand out like Hugh Laurie’s ass on a cloudy day, we say,

Not from around here.

First day, early morning stroll to the beach. Called Good Morning, to a few locals standing in their yard, got glared at in return.

Hmm. Perhaps the salt air has rusted their manners.

When Honey Bunny paused to look at a blackberry bush, an old lady yelled at him from her balcony even though he was on a public road, and had his hands in his pockets.

He wasn’t stealing her blackberries. She screamed at him to get down the road.

Welcome to Oregon.

Cruising the main drag before dinner one evening, we stopped to let a young couple jaywalk in front of us. The man smiled and waved a thank-you.

We said in unison, Not From Around Here.

I watched them to their car. They weren’t. Out of state plates.

Here’s some advice for the Chamber of Commerce of Snootyville:

If your main business is fleecing the tourists, accept that tourists will be milling around your little berg.

Consider opening a Charm School for your snotty natives because there are other lovely places to visit.

Like Montana, where the people are friendly, the air is clean and there is always plenty of room to turn around a titanic RV.