Tourists

"Wow, look at how the cars get on the boat!" A man exclaimed, and I looked at the ramp to see if the ferry workers were doing something different. Then, I realized the people walking next to me were tourists.

"I remember growing up, they used to take cars on a ferry to cross the Ohio river."

"Yeah, and they'd even put tractor trailors on board."

Ok Dorothy, we're not in Kansas anymore. Then, the tourists proceed to the deck, where they stop in awe and wonderment, staring at the city of Seattle, meanwhile hungry, tired commuters like me are struggling to get by.

"Wow, look at that skyline," the man says, clutching his camera.

"Ooooh, let's go up the stairs!"

Thank God, now I can go sit down and blog, or read my book, or otherwise relax. Everywhere on the ferry sit tourists, and they stick out like sore thumbs. They're carrying huge bouquets of flowers from Pike Place Market, while dragging super-sized suitcases. They try to carry beer beyond the galley-area, even though there are big signs. They talk loudly and point at the attractions of Seattle. They wear shorts and tank tops and flip flops, even though its COLD here during the summer.

Then, I hear the Consumerman giving the safety annoucement. Finally, a voice I recognize.