The BarackleShow

Every time someone shows up on the rocky shores of Great Britain (having surrendered the comforts of her far-off land to pursue a better way of life, or her boyfriend, or a cure for her rampant anglophilia), she makes a promise. She swears to her family back home or her new colleagues or anyone who will listen really that she will NOT fall into the trap that has claimed so many of her predecessors.

She will NOT quickly join a community of people of her own nationality.

She will NOT frequent only bars that cater specifically her nationality.

She will NOT live in the neighbourhood known as the one where all of the expats from her country live.

Generally, she will NOT recreate the country she came from within her newly adopted city.

Instead, using her powers of open-mindedness and tolerance, along with the special novel brand of charm found only in the place she came from, she will gather a vast menagerie of friends so rich in cultures and nations that that it would make the UN jealous. She will truly experience life in a global city.

Months after her arrival, however, she’ll look around whatever schlocky bar has her country’s flag hanging proudly from every available wall, take a sip of some familiar beer that was crappy in her own country even before it travelled miles from its source, and say to her look-alike friends in their shared native tongue/accent, “How the hell did this happen?”

This, ladies and gents, is the destiny of the expat in a big city. Try as you might to spread your proverbial wings and immerse yourself in the local culture, you ultimately end up gravitating toward your own kind. Why does this happen, you ask?

Here’s a theory for you. New friendships require the presence of two aspects:

1. Something (the more the better) in common. [aka MUTUALITY]

2. The shared desire for new friendships. [aka MOTIVATION]

For me, your average(ish) American, who do you think are the people that most often meet those criteria? Right. Other Americans. It’s very rare that I meet a Brit whom I have enough in common with (work, mutual friends, etc) who doesn’t have 8,000 friends already; or alternately, some new Parisian import might be looking for friends but because say, she doesn’t know who Brenda Walsh is (even when she pretended to be French for that one summer while living in Paris with “Reek”), we probably don’t have anything in common.

Then I come across some American chick fresh off the boat who ohmigod knows so-and-so who was friends with whats-her-face in high school and BAM, instant buds. Easy peasy, no effort.

Not that I’m complaining. In fact, out of fatigue or need (probably both), I have succumbed to the inevitable my-pals-will-mostly-be-Americans thang. So when my San Fran-originated friend Amanda asked me to accompany her to an American Ex-pats in London meetup group event last night for the inauguration, I not only agreed, but was actually excited to meet some other imports [MOTIVATION] gathering to celebrate our shared history in the making [MUTUALITY].

There was one problem, however. When we arrived, we discovered that the whole place was full of people NOT from America. Instead, it was chock-a-block with single men from Pakistan, New Zealand, Canada (okay, it SORT of counts), Germany, England, you name it, who seemingly signed up for this Americans-only event and paid their 10 quid to get in, JUST TO PICK UP CHICKS.

Apparently these guys felt the need to amend my List of Requirements for a New Friendship with the following:

3. One party exploiting the other's proud political day for his own purposes [aka MANIPULATION]
4. One party believing that by virtue of the other's usually open and friendly nationality, that she will take kindly to his creepy advances [aka MISINFORMATION]
4. One party believing that that by virtue of the other's oft-depicted-in-movies slutty nationality, she is easy [aka MASTURBATION]

Suffice it to say, it was not a giant success in the friends department, although Amanda and I did socre a date with a new potential girl friend next week. Not only that, but we had a great time at the expense of the foreign imposters. After all, who better to do that with than your fellow Americans?