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| England, 2012 |
I was thinking about the differences between England and America the other day. Or New York, in any case, since I make no claims to be an expert on America as a whole.
One of the things that always strikes me about the UK is the lack of urgency. It's by turns endearing and infuriating. You step into a pharmacy on a hunt for something simple like cough drops and it's just...a process. The man behind the counter seems to contemplate your purchase as though he's surprised to have a customer and has never before seen this curious object that he now happens to be selling. He turns it over in his hands like it's a moon rock or something (which takes quite some time.)
Try to get a quick cup of coffee and the pace is just glacial. You spend twenty minutes, easily, trying to catch your waiter's eye to get the bill. In a practically deserted pub the tables are somehow all "fully booked."
I suppose I've lived in New York so long I'm used to the bustle and start to find the slowness here draining rather than relaxing.
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