By Tom KandoToday, I took another long bike ride in the foothills. Redneck country. Where everyone drives a pick-up truck or an SUV. Where they wear cowboy hats.
It was a grueling 30 miles uphill, during the hottest part of the afternoon. I stopped at a roadside joint a few miles outside of Nevada City. You know, with a Budweiser sign out front, a board advertising nightcrawlers, hamburgers, etc. I just wanted some ice water in my bottles.
Then I saw a sign, CLOSED ON MONDAY. Fortunately, the lady owner happened to come around, sweeping the porch. Nice looking, forty-something brunette, somewhat portly.
“You need water?” she asks, smiling.
“Well, I see you’re closed...”
“No problem, come on in. The ice machine is in the kitchen. Let me get you some ice, too...
I follow her inside. She disappears into the kitchen, and I see a bunch of $20 bills sitting on the counter by the cash register.
She returns a few minutes later, with a bucket of ice. She fills my two water bottles for me.
“Great, thank you so much for your trouble,” I say, trying to give her a couple of dollars.
But she refuses.. “Nah, you don’t need to do that...”
So we chat for a few minutes, while I guzzle down some ice water, and then I start my descent back to Sacramento, after she waves me off with a friendly,
“ you come back now, ya hear!”
So, as I start tumbling down the hill, I think to myself, “I swear, Americans are soooo nice! And she leaves a total stranger alone at the bar with $20 bills all over it! Something like this would be inconceivable in any other country where I have lived or visited. Hungary? France? Russia? Even Holland or Switzerland? No way. Nor anywhere else in Europe.
Have you ever tried to take a leak in a European café without ordering a drink? They’ll hound you out! Last year I took my 96-year old mother on the road in Europe. At her age, she has to go a lot. We had to make an emergency pitstop at a roadside café in France. No way. They wouldn’t let her use the bathroom, unless we ordered a couple of drinks. For the rest of the trip, she learned to squat on the roadside, between the two car doors open and shielding her.
Same thing happened to me in Switzerland. I was told at a mall restaurant, “first you order ze drink, ja! Zen you use ze bassroom!”
In Holland, don’t try to get a refill of hot water for your tea, or a second wedge of lemon. “We don’t do that here, sir! You must buy a second cup of tea, and pay for the extra lemon.”
And don’t expect free tap water in restaurants. If you ask for it, they’ll bring you a tiny bottle of mineral water, which costs an arm and a leg.
Well, you get my drift. But maybe you don’t like my sociology. I just told you about the nice lady in the California Gold Country. That’s a sample of one. Stop always generalizing, Kando.
Well, all I can tell you is that I have had dozens - maybe hundreds - of such experiences over the past 50 years. Of course, there are always exceptions. But by and large, I have found Americans to be the nicest people.
I haven’t been everywhere. Maybe in Bali people are even nicer. Or some place else. But hey, I am just giving you an insight. Take it or leave it.
Today, I am not ranting about Americans’ political misconceptions. Who knows, the nice lady at the roadside joint might belong to the Tea Party. But that’s a different topic. All I know is that Americans are the nicest people in the world. Maybe it’s something left of the pioneer spirit. An ebullient, friendly, outgoing mentality that says, believe the best in people, until proven otherwise. leave comment here