When I was an exchange student in the Soviet Union in the 1970s we were asked to talk about our colleges back home in the US of A. A young woman was doing a very nice job, showing slides of ivy-covered gothic buildings somewhere in New England when all of a sudden our Russian colleagues began to buzz. “What was that?” they asked.
“What? This building? I told you it’s …”
“No, no behind the building!”
“Behind the buidling? Nothing. Just … the student parking lot.”
The crowd went wild. A student parking lot! Hundreds of cars! Students own them! End of show.
(I haven’t thought of this in years.)