“Where are you from?”
I can not count the number of times I’ve been asked that question in the last week, but I do know it is greater than in my entire life up to this point.
I must have an accent.
“Where are you from,” they ask, curiosity mixed with just a hint of suspicion.
It’s a trick question because few will accept the truth.
It’s always an odd question for full-time RVers… How do you explain to people you don’t have a home base? You aren’t “from” anywhere. If you say you aren’t from anywhere, they don’t understand. They can’t imagine not being from somewhere.
But these folks don’t know I’m an RVer when they ask. I tell them I am a full-time RVer and I travel full-time. And, still…
Everybody else: “But where are you FROM?”
Me: “I was born in New Jersey, but I wasn’t even two years old when we moved.”
Everybody else: *blank look* “So you’re from New Jersey? I know someone else from New Jersey.”
Me: “That’s just where I was born. I don’t remember anything about it. I lived in California for many years. That’s where I was living when I bought my RV four and a half years ago, got rid of my stick-and-brick, and most of my stuff, and left in my RV.”
Everybody else: “Oh, so you’re from California.”
Me: *sigh* “No, But, wait! There’s more…