It happened about a year ago to us. It’s one of the inevitable reactions for the tourist in Indian Country, although it doesn’t occur that frequently. We’d risen early to get on I-40 and head eastbound, windshield visor up to deflect the rising sun. It was only about 7 or 7:30 a.m. when we pulled into the McDonald’s off one of the exits in Holbrooke. We ran to the bathroom at once before buying anything. An Indian woman employee was sweeping the still damp floor and the sight of me seemingly disgusted her. She glared at me as I bypassed the “wet floor” stanchion. When I emerged to wash my hands, she observed me pointedly, muttering under her breath.

This past month we revisited the same restaurant at a slighter later hour. No one was cleaning the restrooms and the staff at the counter possessed a weary good nature. Why even write about this? Because such encounters can pierce the bubble we tourists often travel in: that everyone is glad to cheer us on our way. Most Natives I talk to in Indian Country are happy to have work when they get it, but on-the-job discontent knows no ethnic boundaries…