"Where do I exchange my American money for Russian currency?"
"Do you have pet penguins and bears?"
(Note: We do not have penguins in Alaska.)
"Do you wear parkas and live in igloos?"
"Have you ever been to a Red Lobster or Walmart?"
"Are you friends with Sarah Palin?"
"Isn't it always (insert either: light or dark), how do you (insert either: sleep or wake up)?
Genuinely worried for the fate of humanity, I chose a college that would assist me in gaining a global perspective, because I believed I would never be one of those "stupid" people.
Fresh to Iowa, I sat with a group of my freshman peers as we made plans for the weekend. Leaning over to a male classmate, of whom I had a little interest in... "Are you coming with?"
"I can't- I have to work the elevator." I paused to examine his expression. Was he kidding? I had used this sarcastic tone before- I can't go do such-and- such because I need to: brush my cats, alphabetize my bookshelf, tally the number of trees in my yard, or contemplate the meaning of life.
To confirm this unexpected jolt of rejection and embarrassment that was quickly showing itself on my face- my brows furrowed as my cheeks grew increasingly warmer... I repeated, "...You have to work... an, an elevator?"
He nodded to confirm, took a bite of his pizza slice and redirected his attention to another conversation. The group's relaxed nature made me feel like he had told a joke and I had been the only one to not pick up on the punch line, "Why do you have to work at an elevator?"
More engaged with my second question he turned towards me, "it's a family business," then took a bite from a bowl of Captain crunch- college students like options.
With the growing volume of our conversation, the group began to hush down and listen.
"Is it a special elevator? Or why can't people do it themselves?" -imagining a Willy Wonka type elevator from Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator, the significantly less popular sequel to Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.
"Because it's big, expensive and complicated. People don't just know how to work them." The sarcasm I had anticipated was nowhere to be found. He stared at my confused face as I studied his blank expression.
Breaking eye contact to look towards my own bowl of Captain Crunch, I paused, "So... you can't just press a few buttons?"
"No," grunted as he chewed- perpetuating my frustration.
I lifted up my beet-red cheeks and doe-eyed expression to watch a friend across the table break into a snorting laughter, "SHE HAS NO IDEA! SHE HAS NO IDEA WHAT AN ELEVATOR IS!"
The entire table erupted into belly laughter. The "elevator operator" laughed as he pulled me in with an arm, "I work on a GRAIN elevator."
The next ten minutes was a seminar. I, the only attendant, and the rest of the table, a panel of agriculture experts. I've learned there is an large difference between elevators:
Without those stupid questions and realizations, one wouldn't learn that deer aren't baby moose and not all elevators are made for people.
Many times people preface Alaska questions with "This is probably going to sound really stupid..." or "Sorry to ask you this, but..." and I always interject with, "No worries! Please ask- because I'm sure there are questions about (insert their home state) that I would sound stupid asking as well."Then the inevitable happens...
"If I call you will I have to pay out-of-country rates?"
And with a smirk, "No, no you don't."
