Tourist: Umm excuse me!
Tourist guide: Yes ma'am?
Tourist: What's that thing you're holding in your hand?
Tourist guide: this? this is a sandwich, it would be my lunch
Group of Tourists: OoOoooh! Ahhhh.... (snapshots)
Tourist: May i have a taste?
Tourist: what sea level are we at?
Local: about two feet
Tourist: what's that big lake over there?
Local: that would be the ocean
Tourist: How do you say this word in alaskan?
Local: I have no idea
Tourist: Don't you speak alaskan or eskimo?
Local: no, all the eskimos are extinct (walks away)
Tourist: Me and my family have been here all day and we haven't seen any eskimos!!!
Local: thats because all the eskimos and natives are nocturnal, they all come out at night and do their tlingit dances by the fireside. (sarcasm)
In many ways, Tourists are like Cicadas. They come in swarms in the summertime, the locals HATE them for eating everything and making it impossible to be outdoors without immediate frustration, but once their epic plunder is over, the locals reminise of the times they had smacking them around.
"Clear the beaches! The Tourists are coming"
"Route 6A? Hmm... Just take a left on this road...You say its a dirt road? Well, thats okay, its my little shortcut!"
"Thank god the Tourists are gone. I couldn't stand them walking around, digital cameras in hand, taking pictures of every rock, tree, lighthouse, and grain of sand on CAPE COD!"