“Coffee is so much stronger in Europe, American coffee just tastes like brown water to me now.” F*ck off. “Europeans go to the grocery store every day, it’s weird to see Americans go every week.” Stop talking. “Enchanté. Its what the French say when they meet someone.” Kindly go fall off a bridge.
Its the time of year that people are back from studying abroad and they couldn’t be more stoked to tell you how awesome it was. Sure, Europe is dope. The culture is different, the food is amazing, the fashion is cutting edge, and the scenery is spectacular. There are different governmental styles and social benefits. I get it. Europe is cool. If you’re one of my close friends then sure, I would love to hear all about your time abroad. If you’re just a pal, acquaintance, or some rando in my math class trying to tell me why I should make the switch to European brand “crisps” because they are somehow healthier, don’t. Ever. See, I don’t really give a sh*t about your study abroad experience. I can tell you that I do, but in reality you could have just lived underground for a quarter for all I care.
I might sound bitter and that’s because I am. You telling me all about how fun Europe was and how many cool people you met just reminds me of how sh*tty my life is. I don’t have friends with dope accents or access to free education. I can’t fly to Spain for $20. I don’t have slim-fitting Euro clothes. I have to shop at Old Navy and put up with flying home once a year for way more than I’m actually worth just to listen to grandma talk to her dog like it’s a human being. (He doesn’t know what “don’t be rude” means grandma, he’s a dog. Dogs don’t have manners.) You also remind me of how poor I am. I can’t afford to go “study” (play) in Europe and blow stacks all while still trying to graduate on time. I’m from Idaho where the only currency we have are potatoes (and meth). I guess I could go to Ireland where they also deal in potatoes, but the only thing they do there is booze their lives away and I’d rather do that in sunny California.
Furthermore, stop acting so above me. Yeah, I’m an uncultured hillbilly from the border of Canada, but just because your parents sent you out of the country so they could ignore your existence for a quarter doesn’t mean you’re suddenly wiser than I am. You’re still the same person that I saw passed out on the couch drooling on yourself four months ago. If you’re one of those people that posts a #tbt or something a week after you get back saying that you wish you were still abroad, guess what? We all wish you were still abroad.
Argue with me all you want, but when you come back from abroad, you’re the same person. It’s just like when you go home for Thanksgiving or Christmas break. As soon as you set foot on your old turf, you suddenly recede back into who you were in high school. As much as you try to fight it, it inevitably happens and it happens to everyone. I guess that is why I get angry. I get angry because you try to act like you’re suddenly so different and enlightened when we both know that isn’t really true. Just be straight with me and tell me that you had a good time, met some cool people, and ate some good food. I’ll respect you more if you give me that answer instead of telling me how much better German beer is than any beer I’ve had. Of course it is, literally anything is better than Keystone.
Now, with all of that being said, wish me luck when I go to Lund, Sweden in the Fall of 2016! I’ll tell you all about it when I get back.