Top ten ways to tell you have been Swiss-ified
10. You think doing a top ten list a la David Letterman is still funny.
9. You are white-knuckled and beaded with the sweat of fear by the time your cab from the airport drops you off at your hotel and you vow never to get in a NYC cab again. And you don't.
8. You don't even bother to buy the Sunday New York Times the one Sunday all year you are in the country.
7. The crowds on Fifth Avenue almost trigger a panic attack.
6. You find the rapidity with which your meal arrives in a restaurant, um, kind of rude.
5. You think Borders/Barnes&Nobles stores are too big with too many books and can't possibly shop there without freaking out.
4. You cannot finish a single meal (with the exception of challa French toast with bacon*, because who can't finish challa French toast with bacon?) because the portions are HUGE.
3. You think food in New York City is pretty cheap.
2. You have forgotten how to calculate a tip in your head and actually have to do the math on scrap paper.
And the number one way to tell that you have been Swiss-ified:
1. You greet the Swiss passport agent with a huge grin and a cheery "Gruesseuch!!"** when you arrive back home. And yes, you said home.
That's all for now; I've been hit by jet-lag worse than usual, and Small Boy is even more of a velcro-boy than normal*** (to be expected after a nine-day separation, but still), leaving me with almost no time to blog, catch up on blogs, or sort through my email. I hope to be more or less back to normal by the weekend. My reaction to New York was interesting, if only to myself, and something I'll blog eventually. I can sum it up like this though: three or four years ago R and I would have moved to Manhattan in a New York minute (get it? a New York minute?) and thought nothing of starting our family there (assuming certain finanacial resources, of course). Today I can only say, Not on your life.
* That is soooo not kosher, is it?
** Typical Bernese greeting.
*** He's been insisting on taking his naps in Mama-Dada-bed and I'm only able to post this because I slipped out when he fell alseep.
Labels: the expat files
5 Comments:
There is no way that B&N is too big!
I love the Big Bookstores. I miss them. I wish I had one right around the corner from me. Open 7 days a week from 8 am until 11 pm. With a nice little cafe and all...
Sigh.
Uh, yeah. Not kosher.
Not Swissified yet, but my reaction upon returning to NYC last week: "Has the traffic always been this awful?" How quickly one forgets the experience of eight years...
GL - I have to confess even before I moved here I was rapidly morphing into an independent bookstore type. But the transformation is apparantly complete, or maybe it was just the bigness on top of all the other bigness that was also overwhelming me. But yeah, there were - gasp - too many books too choose from!
Phantom - Sorry.
Unswiss - You were in NY too? Small world. Traffic, yeah, that too.
Hey, it's America! EVERYTHING is big, expensive and rude. After all, that's what makes America great, isn't it?
I went to a small privately-owned bookstore when I was in Hawaii (in 2002). It did make me rather nostalgic. No matter how cozy big box bookstores try to be, with their comfy chairs and coffee bars, it all disappears when the cashiers plug the discount card while ringing up your purchase. (If it's such a discount, why do I have to pay for it?)
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