Andrew Levy left in January of 2010 for a semester at the University of East Anglia in Norwich, England. It was his first time leaving the United States. His recent return, though celebrated by his friends and family as a joyful occasion, has caused some to be skeptical of what’s left of his humility.
“All he fucking talks about is how the food is so much healthier in England, and rants about corn syrup,” remarked his clearly fed up girlfriend, Jane. Andrew’s brother Gregory shared a similar sentiment.
“I mean, it’s not just food. It’s everything. The bars are cleaner. The milk is creamier. The public transit is better. Their chain Japanese fusion restaurants are superior. He used to be fun. We used to be able to take him out and he’d play Edward Fortyhands with Colt 45 until he threw up, but now all he wants to do is read Dylan Thomas and talk about how the British can handle their liquor so much better than Americans,” Gregory says. Andrew vehemently denies these accusations.
“It’s not my fault they’re primitive savages who’ve never stepped foot off of American soil,” he says as he pours himself a glass of organic milk. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to figure out how to make my own chicken tikka masala, since you can’t find any Indian restaurants around here that aren’t a reprehensible satire of Indian cuisine.”