Wednesday, March 30, 2011

That metal thing.

See,  many many years ago,  when I was an afternoon shift caretaker at a school known by many as "The Hawk"  (and you know you are)  I worked with a fellow whose first language was Portuguese.    Technically he was from the Azores,  but no matter.
Not only that,  but he only got to about grade three back home there so needless to say,  his communicative skills were somewhat diminished.
He had certain convoluted ways of saying things,  that apparently only I could understand.
 Within a very short time span,  it became blindingly obvious,  that any time he needed to communicate to the rest of the staff,  muggins here (that would be me) would be pressed into service to "interpret". 
Oh joy.

I didn't really mind too much,  although I wasn't quite sure just how I ended up with that particular job,  especially if you consider that it's not really a "marketable skill"?  
Ah,  the hidden joys of "seniority".
And how I could go on about "seniority",  but that would just be too long winded.

 So you have to imagine that there were moments earlier on,  when I had nary a clue what he was talking about.  Hadn't learned the lingo just yet.

It's now a different time,  a different language,  and a different country,  but I had one of those moments this morning.

 This is right around the time that Travelling Companion and I have had our coffee,  I'm well on my way to making her lunch,  and she's just about ready to head out the door.

 It went like this:

 "I need that metal thing."

 (me) "Huh?"

 "You know,  the metal thing.  That piece of paper!"

 This is me now trying not to panic.   I have no clue.

 Think Bob,  dammit think!

 "Do you mean,  the Meldezettel ?"   

 "Ya ya....whatever."

How I was able to miraculously leap to that idea is really quite astonishing and I have to say,  I really don't know how it happened,  but there was some context.   It has to do with someone,  somewhere getting around to preparing our taxes for us.  So they need a copy of this particular document. 

 So apparently,  I'm living with someone who does to the German language what my little Portuguese speaking associate would do to English.
 Again.  Oh joy.




  1. Hey, enough wasting time on this blog and get "bake to hork" already!

  2. Ah yes, German Teacher Dude was quite amused by that one.
    We were at one point talking about dialects, and I basically said, "I'll see yer dialect and raise you a goofy language out there on it's own."
    There was that and the "hockey chair", which turned out to be a "rocking chair". That one took me several minutes to figure out.
    Gawd I miss that.



Well, I've been getting too many spam comments showing up. Just a drag, so we'll go another route and hope that helps. So, we won't be hearing anything more from Mr. Nony Moose.
I guess I'll just have to do without that Gucci purse.