Seriously. It's everywhere.
I started keeping track of the situations where I've received a "No Worries" whereas in New York I'd receive a WHAT THE F#*! BRO!?!?!
1. I slammed open my door to get out into the hallway and barely missed completely smacking a girl in the face by hardly an inch -- would have left one hell of a bruise. Upon profusely apologizing, she shrugged it off with a No Worries!
2. I was in a rush to buy colored socks for a themed party. After almost failing in my vigorous search up and down the mall for a green knee-high sock, I came across a sent-from-the-gods sock booth that sold every length, color, material and style of sock imaginable. So of course I had to be the most indecisive person in the world and sift through the innumerable socks for way too long, all the while harassing the poor lady who worked there; "No this is the wrong color green," "Do you have anything with a bow on it," "Why would I pay eighteen dollars for neon green tights I'm only gonna wear once in my life," "Do you have anything less halloween-ey?" This doesn't fly in New York. Patience such as the one exhibited by the sock lady does not exist in New York. But when I finally decided on a pair with two minutes to catch my bus and was struggling to figure out the right amount of coins I needed to pay for them, she took notice, said No Worries! and took whatever amount I had procured from the abyss in my bag. Pretty sure I was a solid seventy cents short.
3. Dumb American questions. Too many times have I been confronted with Australian slang and needed it translated for me "What's take-a-way is that like to-go?" "What's the difference between a flat white and a long black," and upon entering a fine wine store demanded to know "where's the goon?" And public transportations has lead to questions that have needed a solid five minute response "Where do we get off at?" "What zone are we in?" "Does this take us to the beach?"All explanations whether fifteen seconds or fifteen minutes all ended with a genuine No Worries!
4. And the last one I'll reveal was when I was hurtling down the stairs about to be late for my twelve-o-clock lecture, and almost completely took out the innocent cleaning lady who was carrying a vacuum up the stairs. Once again after apologizing for endangering someone's life it was settled with a No Worries!
Too many of my friends from home have threatened to shun me if I come back to the states with an Aussie accent. Such a situation seems highly unlikely thanks to my domineering New York one. And as far as the slang goes, I've refrained from calling any of my friends "mate," assimilating "keen" into everyday language, referring to the first meal of the day as "brekkie" or replacing what with "ehhhh?"
I've even, through much self-control, maintained that McDonalds is in fact McDonalds, and not this alleged "Mackers" (pronounced MACKAHHSSSS!)
But this no worries thing is like a virus. An infestation causing nothing more than a carefree attitude and a laid-back outlook on life. So why fight it?
Truth is I can't. I'm a goner. I want it tattooed on me (don't tell my dad). For further evidential support of this claim here's Exhibit A: (Don't let the fabulously-tacky Australian flag fanny packs avert your eyes from the best ten dollars I've ever spent.)
I cannot even begin to describe the scene we caused when we discovered that gem. You'd have thought we were crippled old ladies who'd discovered the fountain of youth. Of course this defining and monumental moment was documented thanks to the gift shop cashier guy who, in all honesty, may have been more excited about our purchase than we were as he provided us with an ample amount of accessories to complete our obnoxious tourist look:
The boomerangs and hats? All his idea.
We look like absolute idiots. But we were the happiest idiots in the world.
No worries!
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