I spent last night in an Australian Bar, (cleverly called "The Australian Bar"), watching a British broadcast of American Football with a Dutchman and a Russian, and ordering my drinks from a Canadian. God Bless Globalization.
The game started at midnight, and by that time I had already had about 5 drinks, so I was properly loud and American. My own loud American voice was drowned out by the group of 250 pound Massholes that were in town for a business meeting. Nice people. Dumb as bricks, but nice people. They were aware of their obvious Americanness, but they didn't care. In my opinion, that makes it a bit less obnoxious, because oblivious behavior is far worse than anything else. Anyway, I chatted with these guys for a good ten minutes, typical american guy smalltalk about "where we can find some ass" and our preferences for NFL teams. It's funny how easy it is, almost ritualized like the french double cheek kiss thing, except I think it's designed to feel out if everyone involved is straight and manly. All of our later conversations revolved around similar meaningless (but entertaining) manly talk. The other topics were as follows:
-How much do you weigh?
-How much can you bench press?
-Did you play sports in College?
-If yes, what sports did you play, and what positions?
-How many Ice Beers can you name, and which ones were your favorites in High School?
-Argument over Keystone Ice vs. Natural Ice, focusing mainly on which is cheaper and which gets you drunker.
-What factor, which was completely out of your control, kept you from being the best player of your sport in your college/county/state, etc.
-More on how much you weigh.
-How much do you eat?
My favorite, most awkward and entertaining part of the evening, was when the HUGE Asian guy started talking about American fighting and how he felt a connection with us. This topic was used to segue into how he grew up in the ghetto and got stabbed in the arm. The other Huge guy kept talking about how Dutch he was to the Dutchman, who thought it was hilarious that anyone should be proud of being Dutch.
Wow. I guess I have to take back some of my hatred of meaningless female conversations, because that was one hell of a couple hours.
Grand Finale of the night was a group of guys from Atlanta, all around 40, who were there for some kind of business meeting. There were three of them, one boss and two relatively new underlings. As they were preparing to kick us out of the bar, the two underlings started to go outside, and told the boss, who was now sitting with me and the international crew, that the taxi was there. He promptly turned to me and said, and I quote - "Buncha fuckin' pussies" - then turned back to the henchmen and said "go wait in the car, I'll be there when I'm ready". He was very congenial in tone, but it was hilarious. Reminds me to never stop drinking before my boss. Good business skill, alcoholism.
I talked with the International Crew, (from here on out to be referred to as the UN), and they are all excited to meet some authentic, big, dumb, homophobic Americans. So, I suppose tonight will be another night of hanging out with them. I look forward to watching the reaction of Lille's French population to having these roided out psychopaths visiting their fair city.