Why do people who just get back from Europe talk about nothing else? This guy at the bar the other night turned every conversation into a commentary on his most recent European vacation, and it was fucking excruciating.
“Oh yeah, all of Paris smells like piss,” I heard him tell a customer next to him. “It’s like the New York City of Europe.”
“How Trappist is the black cherry porter?” he asked me later.
“Uh, not at all,” I said. “It’s an American style porter.”
“Oh, that’s disappointing,” he said. “I just got back from Europe, and I’ve been drinking nothing but Belgian and German beers.”
Oh, you just got back from EUROPE? I wanted to say. I had no idea! Is it like, WAY different than the US?
Of course, I’m not THAT big of a dick, so I was a bit more polite. “Right on,” I said. “This one’s an American style, like I said.”
Relax, Columbus. You didn’t discover a new world. It’s been there for thousands of years.
I Don't Belong Here. 