I was completely minding my own business this afternoon while standing in line at the Dirección de Migraciones in Mar del Plata to renew my visa. No eye contact, no smiles – nuthin'. In fact, I probably had a rather dour look on my face, as I'd been waiting quite a long time.
The man standing next to me struck up a conversation, which admittedly seemed innocent enough. There were no phone numbers involved or lame introductions unlike my encounter with "El Capitán." He genuinely seemed as though he just wanted to make some small talk.
Following the normal line of questioning, he asked me where I am from. We'll pick up the conversation there.
Me: I'm from Philadelphia.
Colombian guy: Ah…did you have to cross the Golden Gate Bridge to get here?
Me: No, that's in San Francisco on the opposite side of the country.
Colombian guy: Oh, right! Did you know there are sharks in San Francisco Bay?
Me: No, I hadn't heard that before.
Colombian guy: Well, I spent some time in jail, so I had lots of time to read about places like that.
Me: Oh, I see.
Cue the crickets.
I mean, really, where do you go with the conversation after that!?