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June 28, 2011

One of the things I trained for early on in my career as a collector is the hurdles of living internationally. Language barriers are an obvious problem, especially in the world of hard bargains. Romancing a 3rd world Spanish seller to cut you a deal on that rare tea kettle can be a struggle when some people still refuse to speak English. Hence the reason I learned Esperanto, the renowned international language. I have yet to meet anyone else that speaks it, but I have found that for the most part people have a profound respect for my attempt at international unity. But when things like the below letter get taped to my hostel bunk while I’m sleeping, it really makes me question all that. Seriously people, I’m not Dan Brown. For the love of God use English. I’m pretty sure it’s from the cute Norwegian girl that was in the hostel bar last night, but a small part of me suspects it could be something else entirely. You develop an intuition in this business, and there’s this little voice telling me it could be part of something much bigger.

There is something familiar about this... I've checked everywhere for the Norwegian girl but it appears she took my focus on the mission as indifference.


From → dating, France

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