The other day as I was walking down the street with my bag full of schoolbooks and a folder in my hand, a red car pulled up next to me and a man, probably in his 60s, gestured to me to get in. It was 10:00 in the morning in a suburban area. I looked at him, surprised. He didn't seem to be distressed or need help, so I kept walking. He then kept going, made a turn, pulled around and came back and gestured to me again. I was utterly bewildered. I continued to walk away from him, this time cutting through a parking lot of a strip mall to get away.
Part of me was thinking, "Surely, at 10 a.m. in the suburbs, and me carrying my books, he can't think…no….no way."
But when I asked around, people confirmed it. Sure enough. He was soliciting me as a lady of the...morning? I was absolutely befuddled. What kind of prostitute carries folders as she works? And wears clothes that cover her from neck to wrist to ankle? And works regular daytime working hours? And takes customers a block from the police station?
Upon hearing this story, one woman I met at my friend Andre's landlady's daughter's house for lunch said, "Don't feel bad. It's happened to me too!" The conversation then continued as follows:
Monica: Once I was watching birds and a car pulled up, and a man asked me,
"Are you working?" And I said yes, because I WAS working.
Me: Wait. You were doing what?
Monica: Watching birds. And then the man said, "Get in!"
Me: Wait. You were watching birds?
Monica: Yes. And he asked me if I was working, and I said "Yes" because I was!
And he thought I was a prostitute, even though I was watching birds!
(hold up hands like binoculars and laughs)
Me: WAIT. YOU WATCH BIRDS FOR A LIVING?!!
Monica: (taken aback by my sudden volume) Yes.
Me: (awed) What do you do?!!
Monica: I'm a biologist.
The point of the story lost, poor Monica then proceeded to experience the full brunt of my language limitations as I began to hyperventilate and gush on and on in broken Italian about how excited I was to meet her and how much I love love love birdies. Apparently she studies local animal species and monitors their populations for the government. Her speciality is wolves. Wolves in Umbria? Pretty crazy. She's promised to take me birdwatching in Lake Trasimeno. I really, really hope it's not a Latin promise. I really want to go.
How cool is that? My first month in Italy and I meet a biologist. Who WATCHES BIRDS. FOR A LIVING. Yes, the all caps mean I'm shouting.
So yes, in case you were wondering, the best job on the street is: professional birdwatcher. What did you think?
Part of me was thinking, "Surely, at 10 a.m. in the suburbs, and me carrying my books, he can't think…no….no way."
But when I asked around, people confirmed it. Sure enough. He was soliciting me as a lady of the...morning? I was absolutely befuddled. What kind of prostitute carries folders as she works? And wears clothes that cover her from neck to wrist to ankle? And works regular daytime working hours? And takes customers a block from the police station?
Upon hearing this story, one woman I met at my friend Andre's landlady's daughter's house for lunch said, "Don't feel bad. It's happened to me too!" The conversation then continued as follows:
Monica: Once I was watching birds and a car pulled up, and a man asked me,
"Are you working?" And I said yes, because I WAS working.
Me: Wait. You were doing what?
Monica: Watching birds. And then the man said, "Get in!"
Me: Wait. You were watching birds?
Monica: Yes. And he asked me if I was working, and I said "Yes" because I was!
And he thought I was a prostitute, even though I was watching birds!
(hold up hands like binoculars and laughs)
Me: WAIT. YOU WATCH BIRDS FOR A LIVING?!!
Monica: (taken aback by my sudden volume) Yes.
Me: (awed) What do you do?!!
Monica: I'm a biologist.
The point of the story lost, poor Monica then proceeded to experience the full brunt of my language limitations as I began to hyperventilate and gush on and on in broken Italian about how excited I was to meet her and how much I love love love birdies. Apparently she studies local animal species and monitors their populations for the government. Her speciality is wolves. Wolves in Umbria? Pretty crazy. She's promised to take me birdwatching in Lake Trasimeno. I really, really hope it's not a Latin promise. I really want to go.
How cool is that? My first month in Italy and I meet a biologist. Who WATCHES BIRDS. FOR A LIVING. Yes, the all caps mean I'm shouting.
So yes, in case you were wondering, the best job on the street is: professional birdwatcher. What did you think?
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