Although I have little time to be overly friendly with the keyboard, I've enjoyed a lot reading the Drawing Room comments, so I'm going to tell you about this other time I also decided to hide my heritage on purpose, and for no other reason than to annoy fellow spaniards. This one took place around...two, maybe three years ago.
Victoria again, Underground this time. I spot the only open info desk -the station has works in progress everywhere-, and I walk unhurriedly towards the last person in the queue. Suddenly, when I'm already slowing down to stop behind said last person, two human beings, He and She, with little and quick steps, push me a bit and stop just right before me. I have to stop in my tracks to avoid collision, and the person behind me bumps into me as a result, too. I say my sorrys while He and She smirk, as if what they just did is not childish, but the ultimate proof of quick wit and cleverness.
'Spanish', I sadly think. And not only because Spain seems very small and we all look familiar, but because well, the behaviour is sadly familiar too. At that very moment, He and She start to speak, Spanish of course. Apparently they believe themselves clever and quick-witted -just knew it- but they are not as clever with English and London Underground general functioning.
They start to look around. They look at us, we look Spanish too; nice compatriots that will want to help them. The very moment I read relief in their eyes, I open my mouth and start speaking, English of course, with all the British accent I can master. They look at me again, thinking that maybe they weren't right, and mumbling something about asking someone else. Mierda, I think they say, too. Minutes later they leave the queue, and I regain my spot and my language.
Moral: As a general rule, and especially if you find yourself standing on foreign ground, refrain from being an arse without having a good reason.
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