Them: Where are you from in Ireland? Me: Chicago.
Posted on September 11, 2012 by yankeebean
So it’s cropped up a couple of times now. No, more than a couple – it’s happened so many times that I’ve lost count. I meet someone new and have the standard can-you-believe-this-weather-it’s-far-too-hot/cold/wet/dry chat.
Then there’s a brief pause… and they USED to say, ‘So where in the States are you from, then?’
Them: ‘Ahhh, the WINDY CITY!’ (always said with a certain aire of satisfied expertise, like Stephen Fry reading the correct answer on QI)
But the conversation trend has taken a worrying turn – people have started asking me if I’m Irish.
Don’t get me wrong, I love Irish people. They are SO. Freaking. Nice. And they love Americans, which helps I’m just a little freaked out because I love my A-mur-cun twang and I’m determined to cling to it, white-knuckled, until my hard R’s and flat A’s relent and settle back into my head.
Does anyone else get this? I’ve lived in the UK for eight years now, so it makes sense that my accent is fading from shiny-new-American to shabby-expat-mid-atlantic.
I still cringe sometimes when I hear the half-arsed Ameri-English-love-child accent that comes out of my mouth. But, hey ho, you can’t win ‘em all!