Appearances

As I was walking down 23rd street today, a woman stopped me and started speaking to me in a foreign language. When she paused, I told her I didn't understand what she was saying.

She looked puzzled, then pointed to her head. One of the words she said sounded like "Rooskie."

At this moment, I realised that she thought I was Russian because I was wearing my big fur hat.

She said in English "F train" and "Coney Island." I walked her to the F stop entrance that was a few feet away, but poorly marked.

It is intriguing to learn how I am perceived by others and the basis of assumptions that are made. This is the first time I have been mistaken for a Russian.

Now that I think about it, the hat was made by a Russian furrier on West 28th and 7th Avenue. Perhaps he left a Russian imprint on me.