Tourists. Maine can't live with them and Maine can't live without them. In 2016, total tourism dollars topped $6 billion and the industry employed over 106,000 people. Our state reaps many benefits from tourists pouring through our toll booths and landing at our Jetport and spilling their money into our businesses.

Regardless of the benefits, and money, and jobs, we reserve the right to get annoyed by these people who take over our streets and clog our restaurants. Don't lie, you've totally had these reactions during tourist season in Maine. It's okay, we're guilty of several thousand eye rolls, too.

When someone asks you if you want to go see Portland Head Light during daylight hours on the weekend.

No, I would not like to dodge amateur photographers to see a lighthouse I've seen a million times already.

When there's an hour and a half wait at your favorite downtown restaurant because the dining room is filled with tourists.

Luckily the bar at J's Oyster is first come, first serve or I'd never get to dive into a baker's dozen of raw oysters between May and September.

When a tourist asks you where they can get the best lobster roll for cheap.

Lobster rolls are expensive! They are worth it! Don't ask me about cheap lobster rolls! Almost every menu says MP, as in Market Price. Just go get a lobster roll and stop bugging me about it.

When you see a tourist wearing one of those cheesy souvenir shop t-shirts with a lobster or a moose on it.

Bonus points if the lobster on the shirt is wearing a chef's hat and sitting in a pot.

When you nearly run over a tourist couple trying to take a selfie in front of some Maine roadside tourist attraction.

I'm over here just trying to walk to work and you're clogging up the sidewalks to get a poorly framed selfie. If you ask me to take your photo I would be more than happy to help!

When you get stuck behind an out of state plate hunting for a parking spot in downtown Portland.

Parking spot hunting is THE. WORST. I wish I had a nickel for every out of state plate driver 15 MPH, searching for a spot closest to whatever restaurant their about to patronize, and never signaling when they want to pull over to the side of the road.

When you see those French Canadian bathing suits on Old Orchard Beach that leave nothing about the male anatomy to the imagination.

My eyes!

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