Sunday, September 16, 2007

I Swear I Speak a Different Language

Like wtf is going on lately. So at work Friday I swear I was repeating myself about 5 times with some customers. Even my co-worker was like what the hell they are not understanding you. Now I was born in Canada I speak English fluently it's my one and only language. So there is nothing hindering my speech. I thought this was something that only happened at my house with Bill and Jeremy. Like you look right at them speak clearly they will respond and then ask what I just said. Okay, but OMG. I just asked you to put your dishes in the dish washer. You said yes Mom, and now not even five seconds later are asking what I just said? Drive me nuts. Well then this disease followed me to the bank....

~ me ~ Hello how are you

~ them ~ Good

~ me ~ Ok go ahead and swipe your card

~them~ completely blank look

~me~ your read banking card

~them~ oh this?

~me~ yes that's it please swipe your card and enter your pin number.

Now keep in mind this isn't a new customer. This is a customer that is in the bank no less than 3 times a week, and always at a Teller.

So I continue with their transactions, and have to set up a utility bill linked to their card.

~me~ May I see your gas bill again please?

~them~ Gas bill?

~me~ Yes the one I just paid for you. I'm going to link it to your card so next time I don't have to keep the stub.

~them~ Gas Bill?

~me~ Yes that pink piece of paper is your gas bill (thinking to self how do some people even manage to get dressed in the morning?)

So Friday went as such. There was about 5 customers that I just couldn't communicate with effectively.

That brings us to Sunday. Jeremy has a friend that I'm not crazy about. He tries to take Jeremy's toys, he is able to just wander free around the neighbourhood, there's just something about this little boy that rubs me the wrong way. Now he's 5, and I understand most of what is going on is lack of supervision from his parents. Of course he hates playing here, because I have rules. I don't let them climb up on the roof or swing from the clothes line. Yes I'm a big mean bitch, and I admit it. So anyways Jeremy was outside with this one boy H. So H notices on our fence a piece that is coming away. To him it looked like a sword. H says look Jeremy a sword. Now I hear this, and say H just leave it please. H leave that alone. H don't touch that. H pulls it off. GRRRRRRRR. So I ask H to come over and see me. H comes over, and I ask him did you hear me tell you to leave the fence alone? H says yes. Yet you took off that piece anyways? He just looks away. So I let H know that he needs to listen when he is visiting here or I'll have to send him home. He then 20 seconds later walks over to part of the house and starts picking at cement that he's been told to leave alone by me and Bill. Okay thanks for playing H see ya later time to go home. So it's not just my spouse, child or people at work that don't understand me. The neighbour kids don't either. I just don't get it.

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