My interpretation of turning the other cheek

On the whole, my interactions with British people since arriving here have been resoundingly positive. Sure, there’s the occasionally joking at my expense for my accent or slang, but overall, I feel very welcome.

Which is why I was so caught off guard on Friday night when I was accosted by a guy on the street near St. Paul’s Cathedral. Megdon, her mom and I were just walking along, minding our own business, when this potentially drunk, definitely psychotic guy came out of nowhere. With real palpable hatred in his eyes, which was perhaps the most frightening thing of all about the situation, he proceeded to shout at us for five minutes straight.

A summary:

“How are there any Americans in America when they’re all here?”
Then…
“Get out of my country!”
And when we didn’t give him the response he wanted…
“You know when those twin towers came tumbling down? That was the greatest. I was so happy.”
And when we still didn’t respond…
“Look at the way you walk. Stupid Americans with your walking.”
And when I finally turned around and smiled sweetly at him, because well frankly, that was funny ….
“Yeah, keep smiling. You Americans are always smiling.”

I have to admit that at the time, I was a little shaken up by the whole thing. With the perspective a couple of days affords, however, my anger has now turned (slightly) more constructive (plus, my Greek pics still aren’t ready), so in the grand tradition of Mitch and Janis Winehouse, I present:

An Open Letter to the St. Paul’s Sociopath (SPS).

Dear St Paul’s Sociopath-

Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t bother justifying your rude and totally uncalled-for outburst with a response. However, my blog affords me a therapeutic medium for voicing my frustrations and I very much doubt you are much of “a reader” anyway. Therefore, I provide this letter not only as a way to vent my feelings about you, dear SPS, but also as a cautionary tale for all emotionally unstable, outburst-prone Brits with major anti-American chips (or is it crisps? Wouldn’t want to be culturally insensitive) on their shoulders.

First of all, you should know that before your untimely, unwelcome arrival on the scene on Friday evening, my American companions, one of whom was visiting from California, and I had enjoyed a nice evening partaking of many of your city’s finest tourist offerings.

I’m sure that even a person of such questionable intelligence as yourself can deduce that in the process, we happily contributed our hard-earned money (despite the exchange rate tipped profoundly in your favour) to the £15 billion worth of economic support we “tourists” provide to your city annually.

As I’m sure Megdon’s mom now will have some choice observations on English hospitality to take home thanks to you, I offer a word of advice, SPS: Should you ever decide to contribute in any sort of productive way to society, I suggest you keep your brand of stellar ambassadorship away from the tourists contributing to your economy. Just trying to be helpful…after all, friends don’t let friends drive the Welcome Wagon drunk.

Incidentally, SPS, save for Megdon’s mother (who, if we’re going to get particular about this, was born in Greece), we are actually tax-paying residents of London. In fact, I am a British national, just as technically British as you, SPS. I realize that with your limited perspective on global matters, you might not be aware that sometimes people can have accents different from their nationalities, but let me dumb it down for you—you and me, we’re the same…only I’m not a total douche. Yeah, that’s an American colloquialism—the 9 remaining Americans who aren’t in Britain made it up all by themselves.

As for our apparently very offensive walking, well, not everyone can pull off a classy half-drunk swagger like you can, SPS. In fact, if we’re going to be bigots, let’s at least be thorough. Technically, we Americans aren’t even supposed to walk—we’re fat and inactive, remember? Get your stereotypes straight. We’re also loud and obnoxious…something I’m sure you, a noble Brit, would know nothing about.

As for smiling, I hardly think you can take us to task for that, SPS. I know the smiles you’re used to seeing among your friends are likely manic and/or the product of bad dentistry (see? Two can play at this game), but see, sometimes the act of smiling doesn’t mean, “I’m homicidal” or “I should have had braces.” Sometimes smiling just means, “Look at the funny racist idiot.” Understand?

And finally, the September 11th thing. Wow, SPS. You really outdid yourself on that one. I won’t bother mentioning how people from over 35 countries were killed in the towers, or that 67 of them were British, because I’m sure that in your pre-tirade research, you unearthed this pertinent information. All I can say is if that truly brought you the joy you claim it did, then there’s a special place in hell marked “SPS.”

That’s about it from me, SPS. Fortunately, most of the British people you seem to closely identify with aren’t like you at all. In my experience, they are funny, self-deprecating, charming, polite, and most of all, tolerant. With your pushy, close-minded ways, I dare say you’d fit right into your fabricated view of America. The thing is, we’d probably be nice to you because we’re nice people (well that, and your accent’s just sooooo cute).

Smooches,

The OckleShow