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Showing posts with label language. Show all posts
Showing posts with label language. Show all posts

Thursday, October 13, 2011

DO I Speak English?!


Let me tell you a story about my trip to the DMV the other day. I had made an appointment ahead of time (greatest thing ever, by the way), so I just waltzed right in and handed my paper to the chick behind the counter. She looked to be about mid-fifties. Anyway, after she took my paper, she grabbed a couple of forms and then asked me something that was completely unintelligible to me. I knew that she was saying words, but I wasn't clear on just exactly what those words were, so I asked her to repeat herself. And repeat she did. She said it exactly the same way that she did when I couldn't understand her. Thus, I had to reluctantly ask for another repeat. Once again, it was the same stuff from before. Turns out however, that she was asking ME if I spoke the English. Really? She is asking ME?! About MY English? Uh, what the heck was she speaking? Yeah, boy, did we have a good laugh about that one. Well, I did. She still didn't really understand what was going on.

Now, this isn't exactly uncommon, especially in these parts. And while not uncommon, it IS unacceptable. I don't think that I'm asking too much if I'd like someone (who works for the freaking state, by the way) who interacts with the public all the live long day to speak in a manner that people can understand. And I'm not the only one who feels this way! Even in France, they feel my pain!

According to The Local, France is "...tightening immigration rules to require would-be citizens to provide written proof that they speak enough French to manage their daily lives." Oh, God. I want to move to France. Actually, no. No, I don't. But I do have a new found respect for France. How awesome is that? Now the article doesn't mention that there are a bunch of bleeding heart utopians complaining about this or anything, so I'm just going to continue to enjoy this and be jealous that the French will be able to understand everything that is said to them at the DMV.

Sunday, May 15, 2011

Run For The Border

I went to Taco Bell yesterday. My companion, who has been starving herself for a date on Monday, finally caved into her famishment and was in dire need of a taco salad. Thus, we went. And as I'm sitting in the drive-thru, looking at their offerings and waiting for the minion with the microphone to take my order, I noticed that they have a special going. And their wording of that particular special bothered me. Behold! Do you see the problem? Yes, I realize that the one burrito looks like it has tater tots in it and that's a little concerning, but that's not my main concern. (Also, I'm pretty sure that the Cinnamon Twists are merely sugar coated pork rinds.) No, it's the name of the thing. $5 Buck Box. Doesn't that read "Five Dollar Buck Box"? Why isn't it simply 5 Buck Box? Never mind that if you have five of a buck that you now have bucks (plural). It makes no sense. It makes even less sense than food that is under a dollar. If I ate red meat (and if I could narrow down what those tater tot lookin' things actually were), I might have ordered that just on principle so that I could say, "I'd like one Five Dollar Buck Box, please." Who do I take this up with? Where's that little dog? Would he know?