My agency is run by a couple of guys who aren’t from this country. I just found out that, no, we’re not getting Monday off. They looked at me like I was crazy.
“We don’t take President’s Day off. What the fuck is President’s Day?”
It’s time to talk about assimilation. I lived in Europe for nine months. And when I was there, I fucking ASSIMILATED. Three months in Berlin. People aren’t funny here? Ok, I can be serious for three months. (Even though it’s fucking killing me to keep a straight face when you guys speak.) I even spent my spare time learning how to conjugate your fucking goddamned weird ass verbs in your goddamned weird ass language just so I could order my milchkaffe without sounding like a stupid American.
Three months in Amsterdam. I assimilated. No problem.
Three months in London. I ate their fucking food. I drug my happy Miamian ass out of the beautiful sun and sat under their grey skies for three months. Did I complain? Never. In fact I think I called London “cool,” on a few occasions. And oh, that’s right. I even contemplated suffering through their ridiculous placement system just so I could get an advertising job there. (If you don’t know how they hire juniors there, it’s too long of an explanation for this entry. But, trust me, it’s a pain in the ass.)
So now you’re here in my country. Now I’m not “proud to be an American.” I don’t drink Budweiser and I don’t like fireworks. But if you want to run an agency here, you better fucking observe Presidents Day. And we celebrate it by sleeping the fuck in. Yea! Go Lincoln. Now hit the goddamned snooze button before I have to get out of this bed and stuff goddamn acid under your goddamn fingernails.
Learn it. And just like fish n chips, you may find it’s not all that bad.