Where are you from?

Yesterday morning, as I was quietly slipping from the parking lot into the Deer Valley shuttle, one of the passenger made a comment about the cold (only 5 degrees F) and I had the misfortune to respond by saying something inconsequential.

Picking up on my foreign accent, a lady sitting in front of me asked quite inquisitively: “Where are you from?” In a New York second, I thought on my feet and responded: “Straight from the North Pole, and I must say that the Arctic is much warmer than here!”

My response shut her off and it was total silence for the remaining minute of ride left. You see, I'm just getting tired of having to respond to that question, especially when its triggered by my French accent and by sheer curiosity. There is not one hour in any ski day when I'm riding a chair and someone isn't asking me about my country of origin.

I'm now just sick and tired of it!