Your Language

The other day, I was sitting next to the Inverted Fountain, studying for Psych 120B between participating in psych experiments {extra credit}.

Since it's spring quarter, all the public middle and high schools in the area have been taking tours of our campus as field trips, and that day was no exception.

As the hoards of middle schoolers crowded around the outside of the fountain and surrounded me, I just continued studying and didn't pay them much attention.

One of the moms came by to tell a few of the rowdier boys to get off the ledge and then she looked at me and smiled {I guess since I was the lone college kid who didn't move away from the noise, I must be approachable? Plus, I was the lone non-Latino in the near vicinity-- kinda stuck out, you know?}.

"I love your handwriting. It's so neat."

Why thanks.

"Is that English or... *long pause* your language?"

Say what?

"Um. English? I'm studying for a Psych final. It's pretty note-heavy."

"Ohhh. How fun. Have a good day!"

Thanks; you, too!

... *O.o*

I think this would have been more amazing if I had been studying Spanish.

That'd throw her off...

*grins*

I didn't mind too much. She didn't mean anything by it, so s'all good. But ha.

Your language.

I'm amused.