American woman

I was reminded about this by having to rip the bottom layer of my sandwich apart at breakfast. There was a very sociable, and attractive, American girl in the queue for breakfast. Somehow she got involved in my conversation with Dan and I ended up talking to her more than Dan while I was waiting, but we ended up talking about nothing much. We mostly talked about how bad the canteen was, waiting time and food wise. I complained about the length of the queue and suggested they should adopt a McDonald’s style serving system, then she complained about the woman who was serving; how she never cuts all the way through the bread, so that you have to rip the bottom bit of bread or toast when you come to eat it. Unfortunately, for some reason, I deliberately avoided talking to her about obvious things like why she was working in a tin-pot town like this, how she came to work for us, which part of America she came from (assuming she wasn’t actually Canadian) and which department she worked in. I imagined everyone that talks to her asks where she’s from and how she came to be working over here.