Which Reminds Me

Yes, I vaguely remember that there was a small tourist gift shop in the lobby of the hotel that was not very far from the house where we were living at that time. And one day, probably a Saturday, I walked over to the gift shop and was looking around, and they have on one shelf many of those little egg curio souvenirs, that look like painted eggshells, but when you lift off the cover of the pottery eggshell, often inside is an incredibly lewd scene depicted, and so obviously in a short time I am convinced that I am not going to want to buy any curios there, or even be seen buying any curios there, such is the tacky vulgar lack of taste in some parts. Yes, some of those people seem so warm and friendly on the one hand, but on the flip side they are scary sometimes. However, I did buy a book there because it was one of the few places where you could buy English language books, and you probably already know that the title was, "Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee," because I probably already mentioned this to someone, and anyway I often like to read about various topics of history. It was a somewhat depressing read, but anyway, enough of that. The Black Hills are not my native habitat, needless to say.