I used to say, in a derisive way, that whenever you travel, the loudest and rowdiest group at any restaurant or bar abroad is filled with your stereotypical red blooded Americans. Other cultures are loud, but there was something about those boastful arrogant Americans that made me want to distance myself from “them”. And they weren’t always frat boys. They weren’t always Republicans. Sometimes they were Asian Americans but whoever they were, they were always the loudest (and often times the most disrespectful) fucks no matter where you went.
But honestly, I sometimes (and that’s “sometimes” underlined and italicized) miss the bluntness. The honesty. The unapologetic “being yourself”. Okay, not the arrogance that we are the best mother fucking country in the fucking world with the best most fucking beautiful chocolate cake you’ve ever seen and eaten by a deranged lunatic with small hands. Not the disrespect towards other cultures, including the ones within our borders. Not the hate we’ve been preaching lately and the anti-gay, anti-women, anti-baby elephants and anti-saving the environment nonsense (wow–that doesn’t leave much left. Yay, White Men! You win–again). I mean, on an individual level– to be yourself even if you are a loud, arrogant twat. (I feel like America bore the nightmare that is the “millennial”).
I do miss how Americans tell you where you stand. And I miss being able to be blunt and telling others where they stand (especially the latter–you’ve got me). With the obnoxious arrogance, there is a refreshing amount of honesty. Who knows why–maybe because we are the arrogant school yard bullies that we can say whatever we are thinking with no filter. Or maybe because politeness didn’t get us our independence but telling some island dwellers that their tea sucks and we won’t pay their taxes anymore did (well, not my relatives–mine we busy tending to rice patties and petting pandas–those unbelievably cute yet mean little oversized Oreo rodent bears).
Don’t get me wrong. America is like that loud, bright television blaring at 4am at night when you’ve woken up from passing out because you’re piss drunk but you can’t find the remote and desperately want it to shut the F up so you can get some sleep…but I do like just being told straight up if I’m being a twat (and even more so the ability to tell someone else that). I find the honesty of Americans refreshing, especially when I meet them abroad (it’s like, thank you! Someone’s finally saying WTF they actually mean. Though our level of inebriation may have something to do with it.)
Im honestly not a fan of the neighbor who brings chocolates as an excuse to tell you that your party last night kept her up and she’s going to lodge formal complaints against you if you do it again but hey! here’s some sweets so we can all be fake and “civil” (she’s trying to kill me with diabetes and cavities–which may be a probable sinister plan–who knows? And that’s my point. Why don’t I know?)
Why not just come over and tell me to turn the music down? Hell, why not tell me in real time you need me to STFU? Whats with all this politeness veiling the fact you plan on effing me over? (I’m looking at you, Brits).
I sometimes prefer the drunk and rowdier-than-a-group-of-old-Asian ladies at a mahjong table in any corner of the world with no care in the world because…’Mercia. Fuck yeah.