Yesterday at work I had the following mind-boggling dialogue:
Me: Hi how may I help you?
Foreign Lady (not that that's relevant normally): One slice.
M: I'm sorry? One of what?
FL: Yes. Can you slice it?
M: Which one?
FL: One.
M: Which?
FL: The sliced bread.
M: What kind?
FL: The sliced one.
M: *gives up and points*
Of course she wanted the white block thick sliced, which is our most common bread EVAR and that is the only reason I actually worked out it was what she wanted. She was evidently unaware that we have n amount of bread and can slice quite a lot of it. Not-English-Speaking =/= blind. Anyway, perfectly Aussie people do this too, they just don't make for quite such incomprehensible dialogue.
In other related news, an old asian grandmother came up to me on Saturday and asked for bra.
It turned out she wanted a wholemeal loaf.
Luckily she had the same accent as my history teacher, so it didn't take me long to work out she was saying "brown" after which it was back to the good ol' point-and-nod.
We ought to hire an interpreter. Hey, it's gotta be better to deal with this stuff than to get held up at gunpoint at the UN, right?
After work yesterday I went straight to Mics pool. Well, when i say straight... I mean taking about an hour and a half. I caught the 400 with carmen and Olga, and getting off at the Uni I decided it was a shorter walk to the 370 stop on Anzac. So I went there, placed my bread upon the bench, and went to check the Sunday timetable.
Which was not there. I'm serious, the timetable was perfectly fine up until half way through Saturdayk, and then it was just gone!
I walked round to the back of the bus stop, and it wasn't there either. So I checked the weekday/Saturday and decided it was probably every half hour anyway. So I waited.
After about half an hour, a middle aged man came up to the bus stop. He examined the timetable. He walked round to the back of the bus stop, and it wasn't there either. So he called his wife. Then he called the Infolineything. Apparantly the last bus was at 6:40. Now, I had been sitting there from 6:10 till 6:50 by this point. So obviously, the bus had not shown up, either early or late.
Well, crap. And my mobile was out of batteries. At this point a young guy came up to the bus stop. He examined the timetable. He walked round the back of the bus stop. We informed him that said timetable was missing and the bus was probably not coming anyway. He kindly lent me his mobile. I should've given him a scone ^_^
Anyway, I called Stan, who said he and Anna and Alex were being driven and there was room in the car. So then I waited inside the newsagent, where the owner got annoyed at me for reading Cosmopolitan on the floor without ubying anything. Stan showed up in the promised twenty minutes and Alex gave me a piece of orange. Anna's aged relative was driving, and Alex and Stan's directions were somewhat confused and amusing.
Upon arrival we were informed by Sasha and Val that we were within a minute of the time they would have given up and gone inside (and we would've been screwed for door-opening purposes). Everyone else was inside. After forty minutes at a cold bus stop the spa was HEAVEN. Although not literally, unless angels make a habit of wrestling half-naked in bubbly water and biting each other's shoulders. Although I'm sure I've seen a webcomic like that at some point.
Laivi had once again forgotten to bring my Sims 2, and Avi was absent due to studying or something. Val's rat-tail got twirled, mainly by Liza. He looked fairly resigned about it. Sasha found a plastic bottle somewhere, and Mic spent the rest of the night filling it with cold water from the pool and tipping it over the heads of people in the spa. At one point everyone disappeared to the steam room, but when I went looking for them Pavel handed me his earplugs, picked up Laivi and went off somewhere. Anna expressed a wish to be liquidated, and she and Alex did weird things with a piece of balloon, prompting Liza's statement of "Alex, you're breaking the hymen... or whatever it's called..." which is so going the Quotes. Toly entertained Liza with descriptions of pancakes, and Pavel was informative about rich people hiring boytoys. I told Stan that while his hair is now long enough for a ponytail, he should by no means wear one, since it would make him look like a pimp, and he'd get random propositions in the street. Well, in some streets, anyway.
Stan: But, but Mic has a ponytail!
Me: What makes you think Mic doesn't get random propositions in the street? Besides, his ponytail isn't pimpy.
After drying off and changing Mic and Vic had some kind of competition as to who could kick the ceiling. Toly tried, and stacked it mightily. He then lent me his phone to call my dad. I really need to work out why mine is completely incapable of holding battery charge. Anyway, Stan was really nice and agreed to wait outside with me for my dad, and in return I agreed to be liable if the bag he left propping the door open so he could get back inside got stolen.
All in all, I really shouldn't have been as depressed last night as I was. Screw you too, hormones.
Me: Hi how may I help you?
Foreign Lady (not that that's relevant normally): One slice.
M: I'm sorry? One of what?
FL: Yes. Can you slice it?
M: Which one?
FL: One.
M: Which?
FL: The sliced bread.
M: What kind?
FL: The sliced one.
M: *gives up and points*
Of course she wanted the white block thick sliced, which is our most common bread EVAR and that is the only reason I actually worked out it was what she wanted. She was evidently unaware that we have n amount of bread and can slice quite a lot of it. Not-English-Speaking =/= blind. Anyway, perfectly Aussie people do this too, they just don't make for quite such incomprehensible dialogue.
In other related news, an old asian grandmother came up to me on Saturday and asked for bra.
It turned out she wanted a wholemeal loaf.
Luckily she had the same accent as my history teacher, so it didn't take me long to work out she was saying "brown" after which it was back to the good ol' point-and-nod.
We ought to hire an interpreter. Hey, it's gotta be better to deal with this stuff than to get held up at gunpoint at the UN, right?
After work yesterday I went straight to Mics pool. Well, when i say straight... I mean taking about an hour and a half. I caught the 400 with carmen and Olga, and getting off at the Uni I decided it was a shorter walk to the 370 stop on Anzac. So I went there, placed my bread upon the bench, and went to check the Sunday timetable.
Which was not there. I'm serious, the timetable was perfectly fine up until half way through Saturdayk, and then it was just gone!
I walked round to the back of the bus stop, and it wasn't there either. So I checked the weekday/Saturday and decided it was probably every half hour anyway. So I waited.
After about half an hour, a middle aged man came up to the bus stop. He examined the timetable. He walked round to the back of the bus stop, and it wasn't there either. So he called his wife. Then he called the Infolineything. Apparantly the last bus was at 6:40. Now, I had been sitting there from 6:10 till 6:50 by this point. So obviously, the bus had not shown up, either early or late.
Well, crap. And my mobile was out of batteries. At this point a young guy came up to the bus stop. He examined the timetable. He walked round the back of the bus stop. We informed him that said timetable was missing and the bus was probably not coming anyway. He kindly lent me his mobile. I should've given him a scone ^_^
Anyway, I called Stan, who said he and Anna and Alex were being driven and there was room in the car. So then I waited inside the newsagent, where the owner got annoyed at me for reading Cosmopolitan on the floor without ubying anything. Stan showed up in the promised twenty minutes and Alex gave me a piece of orange. Anna's aged relative was driving, and Alex and Stan's directions were somewhat confused and amusing.
Upon arrival we were informed by Sasha and Val that we were within a minute of the time they would have given up and gone inside (and we would've been screwed for door-opening purposes). Everyone else was inside. After forty minutes at a cold bus stop the spa was HEAVEN. Although not literally, unless angels make a habit of wrestling half-naked in bubbly water and biting each other's shoulders. Although I'm sure I've seen a webcomic like that at some point.
Laivi had once again forgotten to bring my Sims 2, and Avi was absent due to studying or something. Val's rat-tail got twirled, mainly by Liza. He looked fairly resigned about it. Sasha found a plastic bottle somewhere, and Mic spent the rest of the night filling it with cold water from the pool and tipping it over the heads of people in the spa. At one point everyone disappeared to the steam room, but when I went looking for them Pavel handed me his earplugs, picked up Laivi and went off somewhere. Anna expressed a wish to be liquidated, and she and Alex did weird things with a piece of balloon, prompting Liza's statement of "Alex, you're breaking the hymen... or whatever it's called..." which is so going the Quotes. Toly entertained Liza with descriptions of pancakes, and Pavel was informative about rich people hiring boytoys. I told Stan that while his hair is now long enough for a ponytail, he should by no means wear one, since it would make him look like a pimp, and he'd get random propositions in the street. Well, in some streets, anyway.
Stan: But, but Mic has a ponytail!
Me: What makes you think Mic doesn't get random propositions in the street? Besides, his ponytail isn't pimpy.
After drying off and changing Mic and Vic had some kind of competition as to who could kick the ceiling. Toly tried, and stacked it mightily. He then lent me his phone to call my dad. I really need to work out why mine is completely incapable of holding battery charge. Anyway, Stan was really nice and agreed to wait outside with me for my dad, and in return I agreed to be liable if the bag he left propping the door open so he could get back inside got stolen.
All in all, I really shouldn't have been as depressed last night as I was. Screw you too, hormones.
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