SORE THUMB, IF CLEVERLY PAINTED

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Louis CK, a very funny, very angry comedian, has a routine about waiting and human nature. I believe he cites standing in line at the post office to start. No one in that spot is in a particularly good mood; in fact, we often become irrationally enraged. Louis CK states (and I cannot disagree with him, either) that we sometimes even just pick someone at random to criticize and dislike if we are in a particularly bad or impatient mood. In his example, it was someone with shoes he disliked.

Now. I am in a Roma Ciampino Airport. I have not slept in 22 hours. Since I had to be at the airport at 4:30 AM, I decided not to sleep. I am standing in line, waiting for the announcement to begin boarding. RyanAir does not assign seats, so I want to be certain that I get a window seat so that I CAN finally sleep for a bit. It is about 6:00 AM. I’m tired. I’m also, therefore, ridiculously easily irritated.

Then I saw her. I saw her across the hall, but I just KNEW she was American. I just knew. To be fair, she was technically dressed like a European: bright blue peacoat that contrasted sharply with her long, straight, blonde hair, black leggings, brown leather boots that scrunched to just under the knee. But despite the costume, that girl was AMERICAN, and something about her rubbed me the wrong way.

Her peacoat was a little too short. Though nothing was wrong with her leggings, they were meant to be worn either under a short skirt or partially hidden by a long tunic. Not the case here. She was just wearing them as though they were jeans or dress pants. It was her stance, as well. I can only describe it as bratty - one hip jutted way our, hand on it, other lag straight with toes pointed out. On her face was a look that scoffed, “I am SO too good for all of this,” her eyes looking up and to the right at nothing, bored. And her mouth. She was chomping and smacking on chewing hum as though she were trying to break an ice cube with every bite (one of my biggest pet peeves). But it wasn’t just the behavior and expression and stance. Before I even noticed all that, though, I just knew that she was American. Sure enough, when she came tromping over to get in line, she was sporting a blue passport just like mine.

What is it about Americans? I have been a bit unfairly harsh with this girl, mainly due to fatigue and the fact that it makes me work that much harder to disprove all of the stereotypes surrounding us (Americans). All that attitude and gum chewing aside, though, there is something physical that makes it easy to spot Americans. It isn’t body type or anything quite so tangible - at least, that isn’t what I’m talking about in this case. There is definitely an American Look, and American Face, though I couldn’t describe it to you.

I wonder if they can pick me out as easily as I can pick them out. My French friends have answered no to this question, but they don’t have the American “radar,” either…

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Comments

[david]

Stupid Girls
How American do I look when I'm in France?