Yes, we're international.

Having spent two weeks acclimating ourselves to university life in Scotland, Kelsey and I have learned to maneuver our way around with relative ease. Yet, every once in a while we find ourselves doing or saying things that you just don't do or say, virtually stamping our foreheads with the words "NOT FROM AROUND HERE." Yes, we're international. We tap our toes impatiently in front of doors, incredulous that they won't open for us only to realize that, nope, they're not automatic. We yank on grocery carts at Lidl and grow angrier and angrier at the little contraptions that so stubbornly keep them chained together, later finding that it costs a pound to use a shopping cart. We order lattes, "To go, please." "You mean, to take away?" "... That would be great. Thank you." "Cheers." Yes, we're international.

It's laundry day. We slung our canvas laundry bags over our shoulders, set out for and located the laundry facility, and operated those coin-operated machines. We were feeling pretty good about ourselves and what reason had we not to? We're in Scotland cleanin' our clothes all by ourselves. Check us out.

We thought, or at least I thought, we had skipped all that "we're international" business on laundry day. I mean, there was really nothing left to go wrong. All we had to do was walk out of the building and the deal was done.

There were two doors standing between me and and the rest of the world. The one on the right was ajar, cracked open towards the inside of the room, and the other was closed completely. Although my arms were occupied by a cumbersome load of clothing, little more than a nudge with my toe would surely have coaxed open that ajar door no problem. But I like to take the road less traveled and I also like to assume that a strong, sturdy shoulder check is all the convincing it takes to get a closed door to let me do things my way. Not the case. Bounced right off of it and staggered a few feet back the direction in which I had just come.

Who did that splintery slab of lumber think he was? You wanna take this outside? Alright. That's where I'm headed anyway. I re-hefted my bag o' clothes and with all the might I could muster, tackled the closed (and apparently locked) door's smart-alec side-kick. As you might recall, that particular door was cracked open towards the inside of the room. Thus, when I leaned into it, and with a good level of passion I might add, I inadvertently finished the job of closing (slamming) it and was sent backwards in an all-too-familiar fashion.

I clearly had not suffered quite enough embarrassment. When I immediately and frantically tried the door knob the moment I gathered my wits about me, it was stuck.

In times like these, one looks to one's friends for relief. A helping hand, an encouraging word. However, in times like these, one's friends are often far too busy laughing at one's misfortune to offer such support. Thus, gasping for air between bursts of hysterical laughter, Kelsey was unable provide any assistance. The young man who had, no doubt, witnessed my little slapstick comedy bit had consideration enough to approach the area with calm, turn the handle with confidence, and ease the door open with grace. I'd like to say I walked out of there with my head held high, but I'm not that tall of a person and this is not that tall of a tale.

Yes, we're international.