The Niceness

I’m in Canada right now (this very second), and I must say… Everyone is really nice here. 

It started at the border… I approached the border security officer with my passport and I was greeted with a smile and a verbal declaration, “welcome to Canada”. 

This contrasts strongly to my arrivals at LAX, where border security officers greet you with a head tilt and a cavity search…

So, needless to say (and yet here I am saying it anyway), I was taken aback by his niceness.

But then I remembered: Canadians are nice!

Really nice. 

Not the fake nice – where you smile with your mouth, but your eyes give you (and your hate) away.

The real nice – where you go out of your way for others, help others, give things to others, greet others with genuine smiles, etc.

Having lived abroad for five years, I have become slightly less nice. 

It’s not my fault. (And how dare you imply that it might be.) It’s hard to be nice when you’re around people who aren’t as nice (Brits, Americans)… I’m not saying that all Brits and all Americans aren’t nice! I am saying that they aren’t as nice. Because they’re not (it’s not even close). On a scale of 1 to 10, Canadians would be 9.5 (to account for the a-holes), the Brits would earn a loose 5, and the Americans would come in at 6. (It goes without saying the French hardly managed a 3.)

(If I had a bar graph it would go right here.)

When you’re around 6s or 7s, you start to behave like a 6 or a 7… Sadly, the niceness wears off. 

That’s what happened to me.   I’m like an 8 now.

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