it seems like just yesterday i was in quebec having a gay olde time
(which is french for “pas mal”).
even then people were stocking up on pots, pans, and tattoos
to the point that they were almost hoarding them.
they made the Americans eat on the streets. we didnt mind.
but we wondered, how on earth did they always know we were from the States?
and now i know.
we had no pots and pans.