A morning commute conversation went something like this:
“So, what’d you do this weekend?” I asked my carpool colleague.
“Friday night, we went to the Irish Village with Alicia and Shawn,” she answered.
“Oh, fun. I love that place. Was there a good band?”
“Oh yeah. We danced all night. And Alicia got so pissed.”
“Why was she pissed?” I asked.
“Oh, she drank way too much tequila.”
“Yeah, but what’d she get pissed about?”
At this point, she looked at me oddly and repeated, “She drank too much tequila.”
I decided on a different tactic. “Why was she mad?”
“She wasn’t mad; she just got pissed.”
Clearly, we were talking about different things. “Wait. What do you mean ‘pissed’?”
“She drank too much and threw up.”
Apparently, getting “pissed” means something entirely different to the Brits.
“So, what’d you do this weekend?” I asked my carpool colleague.
“Friday night, we went to the Irish Village with Alicia and Shawn,” she answered.
“Oh, fun. I love that place. Was there a good band?”
“Oh yeah. We danced all night. And Alicia got so pissed.”
“Why was she pissed?” I asked.
“Oh, she drank way too much tequila.”
“Yeah, but what’d she get pissed about?”
At this point, she looked at me oddly and repeated, “She drank too much tequila.”
I decided on a different tactic. “Why was she mad?”
“She wasn’t mad; she just got pissed.”
Clearly, we were talking about different things. “Wait. What do you mean ‘pissed’?”
“She drank too much and threw up.”
Apparently, getting “pissed” means something entirely different to the Brits.
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