If you were actually looking at these ferries, you’d know better than to ask the question. They’re really quite large, you see. And they have really long routes. That aren’t straight lines. In a deep body of water. That’s an active port with lots of other boat traffic.
They’re not like those ten-car rafts used to get across streams or narrow rivers…
Ah! Nevermind. Definitely stupid.
A group of Japanese tourist stopped me one day as I was jogging around Temple Square in Salt Lake City and asked, [insert Oriental accent] “Where you fine Powiggimus?”
[sub]Dangit, Diane, you owe me a new computer monitor cause it’ll take me a week to get the wonton soup with rice I just spat on the screen off’n it! Bits of rice are everywhere. “Powiggimus” hehehehe[/sub]
Another one I remember:
Growing up in Los Angeles, and having lots of relatives from the UK meant a steady stream of English kinfolk visiting us annually. One charming couple was “Cousin Snookie and Nina”. Snookie was a piece of work. He seriously expected to see Cowboys and Indians chasing each other down Hollywood Blvd., and was disappointed to see just cars and people. My dad took him to a Dodgers game, and painstakinging explained to Snookie the difference between baseball and (cricket? is it?) Snookie brushed my dad off, because of course he knew all about it. But when someone hit a ball and started running around the bases, Snookie yelled out “But he’s running the wrong way!” My dad was mortified.
I was in Austria with a school group, and for the first time they let us split up into small groups and wander about on our own. We were having some trouble finding our way around, trying to match our tourist map against the street signs.
One girl pointed at a street sign and said, “Einbahnstrasse. We’re on Einbahnstrasse”
I said, “Well, I can’t find that on the map, but it sounds familiar.”
Another girl said, “Heck, this street must wind all the way through the city–I remember seeing it before.”
From behind us, a very patient, Austrian-accented voice said in English, “Einbahnstrasse means ‘one-way street.’”
I was at the Harbor in Baltimore last summer, eating take-out on the outside deck of the Harborplace. My friends and I made nice with the group of people - all about 21-23 - sitting beside us. It was about 4pm, and they were talking about dinner. They asked us to recommend some good places to eat, and I suggested Uncle Lee’s Szechuan, which has delicious Chinese food, and turns into the super cool “China Room” nightclub after 11pm. They kind of look at each other, then one turns to me and says, in a whisper, “Is it safe to eat Chinese food in Baltimore?!”
Hey, that may not be so stupid. What if he was visiting Coney Island?
Our guide in Maui said he was once asked by a tourist (while standing on the beach with his toes in the water): “How far above sea level are we?”
The guide said he responded: “Well, how tall are you?”
In San Francisco: “I’m surprised there aren’t more ice cream places. It gets hot here during the summer.”
[nitpick]The distance from Miami to Chicago is more than twice the distance between Amsterdam and Milan.
Miami - Chicago: 1040 nm
Milan - Amsterdam: 442 nm[/nitpick]
Well, here’s a stupid tourist story where I was the stupid tourist. I’ve been to Trinidad several times before this trip. I imagine I can get around over there to some extent. So I get out of the airplane, and an official stops me before I enter the customs area. Keep in mind as you read this, that everyone in Trinidad speaks English. So here is the conversation:
Official: Alaal.
Me: Um. Excuse me?
Official: Algal.
Me: Uh. Um. Sorry, what did you say?
Official [visible annoyed]: Yuh got algol in dere?
Me: Oh, alcohol! Why yes, I have 2 liters…
Anyway, maybe it wasn’t stupid… maybe it was his fault for not enunciating at all. But I sure felt like an idiot, not understand the first guy I talked to even after spending a bit of time on the island. Worse, it was the first word anyone had even spoken to me this trip, and I messed it up.
I guess I never thought of that. Mackinac Island, however, is obviously an island in the traditional sense.
I am loving this thread and I keep thinking of new stories.
Once, while in an Acapulco restaurant, Mrs. Chupcabra and I saw an American lady jump up her from her table in a panic. It seemed obvious she was suffering from an attack of Montezuma’s Revenge and was looking for the restroom. She confirmed this when she turned to her dining partner and said, “where is the bathroom, how do I get out of here”. She looked around for a few seconds and unable to discern her escape route, she grabbed the nearest waiter by the lapels of his jacket and asked…
“Que hora es?”
A few people snickered and the waiter, obviously dumbfounded, just stared at her for a few seconds until he finally figured out what she was trying to say. He pointed her to the nearest restroom.
I realize that this is not really an error of the most grievous nature in that many people go places where they don’t know the language and a mistake like this is easy to make, but I wonder if that woman still believes that the easiest way to find a bathroom in Mexico is to ask a waiter for the time.
As a side note, it has become a standard in the Chupacabra family, when we can’t find an exit or are lost someplace, to look at each other and say, “que hora es, how do I get out of here”.