The most peculiar and prevalent experience of being an American in London is feeling like you’re in a sort of bizarro version of the U.S. For those of you who don’t remember, Bizarro was Superman’s twisted alter-ego, who lived essentially in a parallel version of Superman’s world. All the circumstances, people and events were the same, but everything was a bit wonky. Same. . . but different. Such is London.
To wit: today we went to Pier to find a cheap rug. Complete with the reek of scented candles, gaudy faux-Orient decor and even the student discount, there is really no difference between this and Pier 1 in the States. Why ditch the “1”? . . . Because it’s bizarro.
I should point out, though, that Bizarro himself was often a sort of mentally-challenged, comic-relief version of Superman. The analogy breaks down there. Make no bones about it: London rules.
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