Evening As A Waitress

Last night, a table asked me about my heritage. After telling them my main ingredients, one of the men said, "So, you are not Yugoslavian?"

"No," I replied, "Not that I am aware of."

"Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure."

"Oh, because you look very Yugoslavian. We all were convinced that you were."

"Are you sure? Because I think I probably look very confused."

Also, another table later in the night asked me about where I came from and I told them my story of beginning in California (starting off not so great with the comment, "I was born here when I was younger.") and growing up in Iowa. One of the women was so excited that I was from Iowa, she told me, "That's awesome! I always heard that Iowa was one of those mythical states that you hear exists but you never actually meet anyone that has been to Iowa much less is from Iowa." I told her, "Yes, it exists, believe me. I have tried to wish it away many times, but alas, it lives on. Maybe the people that go to visit it just get lost in the corn fields and never come out."