Monday, April 14, 2008

Annoying Inteview

er, This morning the phone went dead. This is bad, I have a huge amount of work to do and no phone, no internet. I am stuck here at the house with Ruan because Evani is not here, otherwise I'd scamper off to my office where I trust I still have an internet connection.

I went next door to the little store to see if they were having trouble with the phone as well. They weren't. So I was annoyed. When I'm annoyed, I can be an asshole- I know this, but it doesn't mean I can stop myself.

As I'm paying for some dish soap at the store, a car pulls up and a woman inside call me over- I thought to ask directions.

"Excuse me- do you live here?"

"Yes."

"But you aren't from here. Where are you from?"

The woman's manner is bothering me already. She has someone driving the car, who doesn't even bother to turn off the engine.

"I'm from the United States."

"And you live here? Why did you choose to live here?"

"Because it's central." I'm looking at her kinda funny, trying to figure out what's going on.

She finally tells me that she's a reporter for the daily newspaper A Tarde, the major newspaper in Salvador. I've actually spoken to their reporters in the past.

"You've heard of A Tarde?"

Now I'm definitely annoyed. Of course I've heard of A Tarde. It's the major newspaper in Salvador. "Of course," I say.

"But you don't read it. That would be too much."

What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Now I'm extremely annoyed. "What did you say?" I say.

"That would be too much. Do you have a house or apartment?"

"House."

"Do you rent or did you buy it?"

"I bought it."

"You bought it? Was it a ruin?"

The thing that's bothering me, beyond her presumptive tone, is her sense of mildly shocked disbelief that an American would buy a place on my street.

"No, it was not a ruin." This is true, although it was in pretty rough shape and I spent six months restoring it before we moved in. I'm looking for a way out now. I'm finding this woman rude and offensive.

"What's your name?"

"I'd prefer not to give my name."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't want to."

"What do you do?"

I'd had enough.

"That's enough. I'm done here"

"You don't want to do the interview?"

"No. I don't."

"Well, that's fine. You're not the only person I can interview."

I don't respond.

"Thank you" she says, with more than a hint of sarcasm.

I don't respond to that either. I leave, thanking Ciro, the clerk at the store. Unfortunately, she may have thought I was thanking her.

She had gotten out of the car at this point, and I looked back to see if the driver was watching me. I didn't want them to know where I lived, I didn't want them taking pictures of my house. I don't think they did.

Guess I'll have to buy the paper to see if I'm in it.

2 comments:

AkuTyger said...

If that happened to me, I would have been paranoid that it was one of those scam people who later call you and claim to have kidnapped someone in your family. I'm always paranoid about that now. What a wierdo.

markuza said...

Yeah, the whole thing was bugging me out. If she'd conducted herself differently, I probably would have done the interview- or rather, completed the interview.