When I was seven, my grandma decided I was going to be a pianist. For the next twelve years, I sat through weekly piano lessons, despite a complete absence of enthusiasm for the instrument.
When you read the byline for this article, how did you pronounce my surname? Chances are, you worked through it phonetically, elongating the vowels as you went along.
When I went back to my high school last year to talk to prospective applicants, the number one thing I was asked was: “Are all your conversations, like, really smart?”
'But how do you satisfy an itch in a country where one can’t order more than a glass of prosecco? I feel awkward gesturing for the bill with the ridiculous English hand gestures, let alone asking for uno handjob.'