Vernacular: Spectacular!

‘Trolling for Guys’ is a fun pastime that all single girls in New York are familiar with. You spot a cute one, try to make eye contact, maybe flash a smile if he’s lucky, and even strike up a conversation after a martini or two. It may sound trite and superficial, but a little harmless flirtation is fun! So why not?

There is one scenario during the game, however, when a New York girl is rendered powerless by a man, despite her level of expertise or how many other options she has. Mind all of you men out there, what I am about to share is not a line you can rehearse or a gesture you can practice. It’s property that is only begotten via natural acquisition (so don’t try to fake it, because we can tell). And that quality is – drum roll, please – an accent.

Hearing the melody of that gorgeous voice fall out of the mouth of a man is like getting roofied by Cupid: there is no releasing yourself from the vice of his vocal chords. Each day I become more and more enamored by British jargon on the whole. Their choice of words, their unruffled tones, and of course, that glorious accent, has made their brand of English the best kind of English. Even in their writing and literature – their text messages! – it’s so saturated with sophistication that their spit literally drips eloquence.

Everyday banter is so fluid and natural that it seems rehearsed. Tethered to their manners, their words are hand selected and delicately plucked to suit the situation. But still, a Brit is always sincere. In fact they are nearly as honest as New Yorkers, except they don’t increase the volume of their voices or incorporate crude words to demonstrate how they feel.

Furthermore, as the London dialect is derived from very proper Old English, it makes ours sound ignorant. See, Brits choose gentler terms in place of the words we use for emphasis, making us seem excessive and even a little desperate. For example, where Americans often employ certain four-letter words to call someone an idiot, Brits would more politely call that individual “simple.” And generally I just like their terminology better! Brits don’t “wait on line,” but instead they “stand in queue.” Their food is “gorgeous,” their tea is “proper,” and their good-looking residents are “fit.”

And while I drool over their vernacular, and unfailingly attempt the accent after I’ve had enough wine, I realized that I loved their way of speaking so much because it wasn’t mine. It’s different from what I know, and that makes it special. But what’s interesting is that since I’ve been here, I received innumerable compliments on my New York twang. Now I am the one with the accent, I’m the one who’s different, and you know what? I actually feel cooler for it.