“That’s so American!” my friend exclaimed when I called somebody a loser.
She’s British.
Took me a long time to unabash myself, thinking over that conversation from a couple of years ago, because I love and admire my friend, it’s now a half-century since we first met, and for almost everything meaningful in life I admire the living heck out of her.
Many languages make plain speaking impossible. We should thank the Whoever that we speak American English here, because we can so easily be as blunt or elliptical as we choose; as vulgar or as courteous as situations may urge or tastes inflect.
This Plague Era of ours, it’s shown us many ugly things, and truth can be ugliest. But rotten things stink for a reason. You need to smell them out.
You shouldn’t say that. Don’t speak that way. Perhaps you might want to rephrase this. Must you be so unnecessarily rude? I agree with your point but the way you said it…
Tough. Too bad. Fuck that shit. Sometimes depending on circumstances, you need to buck up a little and take it.
I learned a long time ago I wasn’t born to be a lady. For years that made me a little sad. During one of my various bouts of living overseas, I met the wife of one of my colleagues, both of them American too, and she was a natural gentlewoman and I felt a kind of rueful acknowledgement of the qualities of the type, because nothing can teach you this. I’ve been around a lot of the rich and privileged in my time and amongst them there hadn’t been anyone to hold a candle to Mrs. Kent. People like that make you want to mind your manners; you feel your lacks.
I felt my lack during that conversation with my British friend, too. I’ve worked through it now.
[Note: Of course I still grant her a special exemption.]
I can relate. And I'm Canadian.
I'm sorry, this is the first thing you've written that doesn't resonate with me at all.