The movie "The Girl Next Door" opens with the main character (Emile Hersch) watching his classmates skip class on senior skip day, and daydreaming about participating. There's a ~5 second clip where two kids tape a piece of paper on the license plate. I met the long-haired kid on the left when I was hitch hiking around New Zealand. Name was Ben something. I think we hung out in Queenstown or something for a week. Maybe it was Auckland. There was an "Ice Bar"there, wherever it was.
There was a few more Americans in that group too. I remember an "old money" kind of girl that ended up being nice, A PhD in something electrical related, and a grad that just got hired at Google and was celebrating.
Anyways, we were in a huge multistory hostel one night. There was a TV room with about 20 people in it, none of them white. Varied as the rainbow otherwise. They were watching Conan, quiet as mice. 3 of us, Ben included, sat there and watched quietly for a few too. Until this scene came up -
And Ben fucking lost it.
Absolutely hysterical laughter and pointing at the TV for 2 minutes straight, before switching over to crazy laughing + Boomhauer string of compliments and insults to Conan, the horse, the Director of Conan, etc. He cleared most of the room. The rest were split between laughing and clapping for him without understanding what he was saying, and wanting to call an ambulance.
Every single time I've seen anything to do with Conan since then, I think about what it felt like to be one of 3 Americans in a room of 20+ non Americans. Watching Arnold punch a horse. Watching Ben watch Arnold punching a horse, rather.