Member-only story
I Felt Un-American That Night
My brief cultural identity crisis
“I believe it’s against U.S. law to be a supporter of rugby,” I informed the scruffy-haired German fellow. He laughed and then continued to brief me on the rugby championship game between South Africa and England.
If he was such a diehard fan, he wouldn’t have been eating Thai food in a restaurant with our group of ten with the first half of the game in session.
The Irish pub, with its jumbo television sets for all major sporting games, was sardined with crazed rugby fans.
We would later join these pie-faced folks for a nightcap at the overcrowded establishment where sweaty bods, loud chants, and raucous celebrations ruled, following the Springboks’ claim to the Rugby World Cup.
Here are ten reasons why I felt like an American turd that Saturday night:
1. With only a brief retort, I basically endured a non-American’s ridicule and mockery of the George Foreman Grill; any self-respecting American would have unabashedly defended its reputation.
2. I ordered a Thai dinner in German, at which time I was reminded that my pronunciation of forty sounded too similar to the word peaches. An inept jerk I became, on the spot.
