“howe eojweo nfoe ruwe ?”
“I..uh..”
“He said that he was making fun of me for taking pictures of my food. He asked if you do the same.”
“Oh..I..”
This was the extent of the conversation with the two guys in front of us at AMA Supercross this past weekend. I’m impressed that I met a real life Boomhower. He looked at me. He spoke. He needed a translator.
In fact, I discovered that Supercross was one big communication error after another. The guy in front of us needed subtitles and The Boy lost all ability to communicate as well. By the fifth race, and the fifth time The Boy responded with, “there” when I asked him which rider was in first, I was rather annoyed.
Somehow he didn’t see a problem in pointing to a race track to show me the current leader. I would ask where, he would point again. AGHH! Could I get up on an adjective or two? Bike color? Helmet color? Maybe a number?
In the end I just pretended to know who won and I cheered with a three second delay. Perhaps the fumes were causing me the problems, and the boys were just fine. Though, somehow I doubt it.
