Amy Middleton Loves New York

Glasgow wasn’t everything I expected it to be- I expected it to be a place where people spoke English in a delightful accent I could enjoy and understand. Instead, I was staring blankly at Scotsmen, asking them to repeat themselves, and futilely attempting to process what they had said. It was a bit frustrating, that part. But the mere sound of how the words were said was compelling, and I found I was inadvertently trying to mimic it in an attempt to communicate.

In a rush to buy some nylons on the way to Mitch’s wedding, I had to resist asking “do you have any knickers, please” in a sing-song tone, to store clerks, although I almost wish I had. Instead, in my very flat American accent, I asked around until I was directed to Wolworths. The man at the register was wearing a red cowboy hat. He said he liked mine, but I didn’t understand what he said at first. He then was talking to another employee about how I had to choose his aisle because we were both wearing hats. Finally as I was leaving,

“I hope you have a nice day.”

“Thanks. You too.”

“Oh, I will. I’m wearin’ a hat.”