Fasten your seatbelts and hold on to this newspaper, it’s going to be one wild ride through my semester in London.
You see, everyone had a different reason for coming. For some people the appeal was just to get out of I-town, others wanted to reap the benefits of big city life, some wanted to get out of I-town (did I say that already?), but I set out on a mission of epic proportions.
This is no ordinary mission and I may be forced to extreme measures in my quest to befriend Prince William.
Before meeting Wills, as his friends call him, I need to assimilate to british culture. I did not travel some 67,432 miles to come off as a dumb yankee or only use American banter when I meet this fine bloke.
Step one: In order to research social practices in the United Kingdom, I ventured out to a dance club in Picadilly Circus. Here’s an excerpt from my first conversation.
Me: Where are you from?
Me: Oh shit.
So much for branching out in the big city.
Step two: British people can say things like, “This is one crazy bus,” (while standing in my living room mind you) and actually sound intelligent. British people absolutely love it when you use their accent so I tried it out. When I turned on my accent the only people who believed me were a few chaps from India – step two is still in progress. We wonder why American’s are scrutinized abroad, yet there are people like me and David Blaine, currently dangling from a glass box in downtown London for 44 days – stupid Americans!
Step three: Give up commercially American products. To truly interact with the people I’ve had to say no to the Gap, Starbucks (there’s a minimum of two on every street) and beer that taste’s like dishwater (this is a Keystone campus). Regardless of London’s commercial side, it’s still possible to find a good old fashion bowl of porridge and kidney bean pie.
Step four: Only one in 47 people smile here, so to blend in one must not smile or use any manners. For instance, if I cut someone of in line or push someone into traffic, it’s proper to just continue walking (at a pace of 26.2 miles an hour) or mutter (using my best accent) “suck your mother.” People here know you’re foreign if you mind your P’s and Q’s.
Wills is only a short train ride away and after a few more observations I will be ready to meet my prince.