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Miniature Rant.

For one reason or another, my being an American is a great source of amusement for the entire island of Skyros. Descriptions such as “you’re so American” after I giggle gleefully over a new Greek dish, “she’s so naive (because she’s American)” after I comment on how lovely everyone on the island has been to me, and “why are you so positive? Stop acting like an American cheerleader” are commonplace whenever I enter a conversation. I very nearly slapped the man who will be elected mayor next month after he laughed at me at an art exhibition, looked around the room and commented, “she’s my favorite- she’s so naive,” after I answered a question about what it was like volunteering with the Skyros Island Horse Trust (my answer was positive and upbeat, as is my custom). I mean, excuse me, you arrogant prick, you don’t know the first thing about me and considering that the only conversations we’ve had have happened at events where I’ve been a few glasses of wine deep, you have NO RIGHT to classify me as “naive” or to decide that I’m your “favorite.” Especially not in front of a room full of people that I’ve never met. I do not want to be your favorite, in fact, I’d like to slap you, HARD, publicly, for being an assuming, egotistical asshole. But I won’t, because I’m a nice person, because I’m so “American.”


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