Independance Day unofficially spells the end of the halcyon off season forn Philadelphia, and with it comes the annual stream of tourists from all over the country, and ever other parts of the world. Like all good Philadelphians, I have no choice but to hate them. Because, they do everything slowly. They walk slowly on the sidewalks, at half the pace we walk. They slowly eat and take up space in restaurants. They slowly browse the aisles at the local supermarket, and slowly pay for their purchases. They gawk and randomly stop walking to stare at things we don't care much about. "Wow! A market inside a train station!" Yeah, it's Reading Terminal. Nothing special about it. "Wow! A gigantic statue of William Penn!" Yeah, it's city hall, where our decrepit and corrupt officials run this decrepit and corrupt city. Nothing special, move along. "Wow! This subway station smells Exactly like a public restroom! Exactly even!" Yeah that's...well, basically every single station for all the lines in the city. Nothing special.**
And then, they ask for stupid directions.Tourist: "Excuse me,son! How do I get to Rittenhouse Square?" Philadelphian: You're on Rittenhouse Square, Man." Tourist: "Say, how do you get to 5th and Market?!" Philadlephian: "Well, you're on Market. And you're between ninth and tenth street. I assume they taught 'counting' in your elementary school? Figure it out, man." Tourist:"Excuse me, I'm not from here. Could you tell me how to get how to get to Sesame Street to West Oak Lane?" Philadelphian: "Man, that's like a two hour drive from here and a ten minute explanation.Go ask someone else."
You get the idea.
Sometimes, my mother and I like to play 'Spot-the-Tourist' when we're out. They easy to spot because they have the same or similar characteristics.
They'll be gone bu Labour Day, but until then, we'll be forced to take ten minutes to go three feet while the tourists in front of us squawk and gawk and block the walk, so there's no way around.[/rant]