“Excuse me, could you tell me how to get to the Bus Tours Headquarters?”
“Oh yeah, no problem. Just keep heading along 56th street here and when you hit Seventh Avenue, hang a louie…”
“Excuse me? Hang a louie?”
“Yeah, hang a louie. You know, take a left.”
“Do you have any idea how offensive that is? I’m a Louie.”
“Uh, what? What are you talking about?”
“Man, I can’t believe the ignorance that exists today. You have no idea what the origin of that phrase is, do you?”
“Left. Louie. They’re both L-words.”
“Oh yeah, like it’s that simple. Sheesh. Well, it looks like I’m gonna have to educate the masses once again. The story takes place in medieval France. There was a French Count named Lefreveau who ruled over a large piece of land in the northern portion of the country. Lefreveau was a very introverted man who hated to be bothered by the petty appeals of the peasants over whom he ruled. His castle rested on a steep hill off of the main peasant road, but day after day peasants made the journey to ask him to settle various disputes amongst them. Lefreveau pondered a way to stop the peasants from bothering him and he finally settled on an answer. On the other side of the main road from the peasant village was a small community of independent merchants who were all descendants of Jean-Phillipe Louie. Assuming that the peasants would hold any human life in high regard, Lefreveau issued a decree that any time one of the peasants took the left hand turn off the main road up to his castle, he would hang a member of the Louie clan. Unfortunately, this backfired and the peasants soon found it to be great fun to “Hang a Louie” and laugh at the torment of the dwindling Louie clan. My ancestors were almost completely eliminated by Lefevreau’s murderous decree. So no. I will not take a louie thank you very much.”
“Oh well, well, I’m sorry. Uh, so take a left then at Seventh Ave and then all you have to do is mosey down that…”
“What? Mosey?”
“Yeah. Mosey. Well, you can walk faster if you want…”
“Houston, Texas. The Old West. My great great great great great great grandfather Sheriff Mosey Louie is shot in both feet by Mean Tom Hickel. From that time on, every day when Sherriff Mosey would limp slowly and painfully down the street to patrol that godless town, the cruel men would gather outside the storefronts taunting him and yelling ‘Mosey along there Sherriff. Yeehaw!’ Then after two years of that torment they shot him in the head. So no, I will not mosey down the street thank you very much.”
“Oh wow. Sorry about that. Well, yeah, you just walk down there and when Seventh Ave intersects with Broadway you just mercilessly slaughter a tourist bastard and you’ll be right there.
…
…
“Oh great. Thanks.”
“No problem. Have a nice day.”