A few months ago, in Vietnam, I forget where exactly, but it was a touristy stay-in-a-real-ethnic-stilt-house-and-sleep-on-the-floor-for-the-real-authentic-experience sort of place, I asked a couple of fellow-guests if they had a guidebook I could borrow for a moment.
"Hallo, do you have a guidebook I could borrow for a moment?" was the gist of my chat-up line.
"WE'RE NOT TOURISTS!" was the squawked-in-unison shriek I got from the pair of yankee-doodles - not that I had so much as mentioned the T-word.
Frightfully sorry, chaps. Apparently they were English teachers in Hanoi, taking a weekend break.
NOT TOURISTS, OK?
Next time I'll just call them Bush-voting, father-raping morons - they'll be less offended, I think.