Usually, when I meet new people, it goes like this. They do that super-saccharine "Oh hi! Nice to meeeeet you!!!" thing that Americans do when they're being polite. Then I say something appropriate back. Then they get the Look. The one that says "She's not from around here...".
Questions ensue, and my ancestral roots are traced back to New Zealand, which invariably gets a response of "Oh! Nooo Zeeeland! I hear it's beautiful".
But yesterday, I met this guy at a temps office party who immediately informed everyone around us that New Zealanders may look prim and innocent (while he waved his hand in MY direction!) but they're actually hard-core party animals and can drink anybody you care to mention right under the table.
I felt peer pressure! I felt the burden of civic pride in our achievements, no matter how dubious! I felt that maybe it's the Americans' fault that we drink irresponsibly. If they're going to keep admiring us for it, how can we not play along? Before you know it, I was agreeing to meet up for a couple of bottles of wine to prove that I am, in fact, an Antipodean Booze Bitch.
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