I’ve been getting made fun of by locals ever since I arrived in London.
Part of it is just my natural propensity for being silly, but part of it is the inevitable things people do that set themselves apart from the natives when they arrive in a foreign land. Touristy things. Or as they say in England: touristy things. We speak the same language you know.
For me, it’s the poncho. A week ago, Yuanyuan, Michelle and I walked to the nearby Tesco in our ponchos and probably became momentarily Twitter-famous in the process. As I was shaking my poncho free of water just inside the automatic doors, no doubt resembling a happy puppy, I heard one of a gaggle of ladies standing by the shopping carts say to her friend: “get a look at that! No, turn around. Keep turning. Keep turning.” Then there was a chorus of sniggering and half-hearted apologies.
Gene is American too apparently
Five minutes later I was crouching in the juice aisle, trying to find that cloudy apple juice I like. I heard a horribly familiar sound, what I now call “the poncho giggle.” I looked up to see a young lady grinning at me wickedly.
“Ooh, I like your poncho,” she said, fingering it suggestively as she walked past me. Her somewhat embarrassed friend followed in her wake, rolling her eyes at me as if to say: “don’t mind her.”
Three minutes later, yet another girl got incredibly lucky. She caught all three of us in an aisle together. Three ponchos! She nearly pissed herself. She nearly ended up in the hospital. She’s going to be telling that story for weeks.
Ellen may have bought the ponchos, but she doesn’t wear them
I blame it all on Ellen, of course. She responsibly bought each of us a poncho on Amazon, two weeks before we flew here, to save us from the infamous British rain. Or as they say in England: weather. I should be thankful that I’m dry no matter how many Brits are laughing at me. I should be happy to bring joy into British lives with my crazy American antics. I should definitely take the poncho back out of the garbage.