I have had the feeling that it would rain today, and my intuition has been right. Again, I sit by my open window enjoying the aroma of a rainy day, while I can hear the ice cream van playing its idiotic jingle. It's the “La Cucaracha”-theme with a high tempo sadistic twist of infants gone berserk on xylophones. The more I listen to it, the more I imagine the van being a mobile circus with a driver that's dressed up like some clown, who behind his infinite layers of make up loathes his job.
Today I had decided to eat my lunch at Burger King. Something very embarrassing had taken place. The guy who attended me was a black African male in his late twenties. I had already decided what I wanted to order, while waiting in the queue. However, this guy spoke in a completely incomprehensible English. It was worse than the cabin crews on international flights, where they always seem to pick the worst English-speaking individual to provide the details of the trip to the passengers over the speaker “Ledzajentelmen velcome aboard za flight to Lala-land”. This guy spoke with a terrible accent, and because he had asked the same generic questions to all customers hundreds of times throughout the day, he was able to repeat them at speeds that were only contemplative in a nerdy Sci-Fi universe. If I had to mimic this guy, I would have to speak some unknown tribal language, like the ones you see on the Discovery channel, when they are broadcasting documentaries about Indians in the Brazilian rainforest . The queue behind me had piled up very badly, and I had already used my quota of sorry-could-you-repeat-that-please on this guy. My embarrassment was a hair from being surfacing, which made me decide to improvise and stick to repeating the keywords that I could understand. Somehow I managed to get through it, and I had successfully placed an order ...on something. Obliviously I stood and waited for the guy to bring the food to the counter. I felt a bit like back in primary school, where I would open up my lunch box and be surprised with what sandwiches my mother had made for me. It turns out, I had ordered a cheeseburger meal. I confess that I was disappointed by the outcome of the short discourse, however, I was not brave enough to initiate a new conversation with him with the intention of altering the order. My main concern was to get the hell out of there rather than eating my food.
My mood is not as dull and pale as the sky today. I'm a bit indecisive whether I should be happy or sad today. A lot like that theatrical mask that both represents the smiling and the frowning face. It's a state that lingers until a new a day commences and only then will I be able to make a choice. Now it's raining again.
Today I had decided to eat my lunch at Burger King. Something very embarrassing had taken place. The guy who attended me was a black African male in his late twenties. I had already decided what I wanted to order, while waiting in the queue. However, this guy spoke in a completely incomprehensible English. It was worse than the cabin crews on international flights, where they always seem to pick the worst English-speaking individual to provide the details of the trip to the passengers over the speaker “Ledzajentelmen velcome aboard za flight to Lala-land”. This guy spoke with a terrible accent, and because he had asked the same generic questions to all customers hundreds of times throughout the day, he was able to repeat them at speeds that were only contemplative in a nerdy Sci-Fi universe. If I had to mimic this guy, I would have to speak some unknown tribal language, like the ones you see on the Discovery channel, when they are broadcasting documentaries about Indians in the Brazilian rainforest . The queue behind me had piled up very badly, and I had already used my quota of sorry-could-you-repeat-that-please on this guy. My embarrassment was a hair from being surfacing, which made me decide to improvise and stick to repeating the keywords that I could understand. Somehow I managed to get through it, and I had successfully placed an order ...on something. Obliviously I stood and waited for the guy to bring the food to the counter. I felt a bit like back in primary school, where I would open up my lunch box and be surprised with what sandwiches my mother had made for me. It turns out, I had ordered a cheeseburger meal. I confess that I was disappointed by the outcome of the short discourse, however, I was not brave enough to initiate a new conversation with him with the intention of altering the order. My main concern was to get the hell out of there rather than eating my food.
My mood is not as dull and pale as the sky today. I'm a bit indecisive whether I should be happy or sad today. A lot like that theatrical mask that both represents the smiling and the frowning face. It's a state that lingers until a new a day commences and only then will I be able to make a choice. Now it's raining again.
Edward T. Shufflebottom
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