27 July 2011
Story #435
R. Linda:
I went to pick up me takeout lunch at a pub in West Boston and felt like I walked into a pub back home. Everyone was Irish. I was standing next to a fella from western Ireland (his accent is as close to an American one as you're gonna find back on the old sod). He was talking to a fella from Northern Ireland (our accent is the hardest to understand, I be told), and the fella from the West was very anti-American in his feelings and the other, well, he didn't rightly care; he was more going on about the English.
"They closed Shannon to the U.S. military flying in," said the western man, "bout time."
"Ah, well. I wish we'd closed Belfast Airport to the English," the northern man laughed.
I was thinking maybe we should close Logan Airport to both of ya, but I said nothin'.
"Ye kno dey (Americans) have opinions fur everyting, an' it makes me dislike 'em for da high and mighty attitude, ya kno?" Mr. Western Ireland said.
"Yeah, but the English slag on us for our footy teams not being as superiour as derr own, an' den they point were drunken fingers at us, sayin' we be the drinkers on da continent. Like dey aren't?" Mr. Northern Ireland said not to be left out.
I thought to meself, "Well, you're both in your cups and awfully opinionated." But I said nothing.
"And ya neow wat gets me about Americans, dat southern drawl. I kin hardly understond 'em," Mr. Western Ireland expounded as he went further on his OPINION of Americans.
"Well, I tink dats nuthin' when it cooms to da English cockney; I mean, wot arr dey sayin'?" Mr. Northern Ireland guffawed, not to be outdone.
And I thought to meself, ye both should hear yourselves one sounds like he has a bit of an American accent and the other sounds like he never learned to pronounce the language but in slang. But I kept me piehole shut.
"I doon kno wat America wiz tinkin' when it elected George Bush twice," Mr. Western Ireland said, shaking his head.
"Well, look wot England elected after dat disaster, Blair; Brown. Talk about incompetent; all ya had to doo wuz look at 'em'." Mr. Northern Ireland moaned.
Well, lunch was ready, and they both stopped their "opinionating" to look at me, so I said on taking me leave, "Stondin' here, I couldn't help but be a party ta yer conversation. I thank ye both for the honesty and will leave ya with this; I think I have a man that would satisfy ya both, so on 20 January, you can coom pick Obama up in Washington, and he'll be all yers. Solve your problems; he will get that Celtic Tiger, so he's completely dead, and the British economy will be turned on its rear end. Good luck to ya." And so I took me sannies and left them staring at me; not a word did they say. At least until I was out the door.
SIGH
Gabe
Copyright © 2011 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
I went to pick up me takeout lunch at a pub in West Boston and felt like I walked into a pub back home. Everyone was Irish. I was standing next to a fella from western Ireland (his accent is as close to an American one as you're gonna find back on the old sod). He was talking to a fella from Northern Ireland (our accent is the hardest to understand, I be told), and the fella from the West was very anti-American in his feelings and the other, well, he didn't rightly care; he was more going on about the English.
"They closed Shannon to the U.S. military flying in," said the western man, "bout time."
"Ah, well. I wish we'd closed Belfast Airport to the English," the northern man laughed.
I was thinking maybe we should close Logan Airport to both of ya, but I said nothin'.
"Ye kno dey (Americans) have opinions fur everyting, an' it makes me dislike 'em for da high and mighty attitude, ya kno?" Mr. Western Ireland said.
"Yeah, but the English slag on us for our footy teams not being as superiour as derr own, an' den they point were drunken fingers at us, sayin' we be the drinkers on da continent. Like dey aren't?" Mr. Northern Ireland said not to be left out.
I thought to meself, "Well, you're both in your cups and awfully opinionated." But I said nothing.
"And ya neow wat gets me about Americans, dat southern drawl. I kin hardly understond 'em," Mr. Western Ireland expounded as he went further on his OPINION of Americans.
"Well, I tink dats nuthin' when it cooms to da English cockney; I mean, wot arr dey sayin'?" Mr. Northern Ireland guffawed, not to be outdone.
And I thought to meself, ye both should hear yourselves one sounds like he has a bit of an American accent and the other sounds like he never learned to pronounce the language but in slang. But I kept me piehole shut.
"I doon kno wat America wiz tinkin' when it elected George Bush twice," Mr. Western Ireland said, shaking his head.
"Well, look wot England elected after dat disaster, Blair; Brown. Talk about incompetent; all ya had to doo wuz look at 'em'." Mr. Northern Ireland moaned.
Well, lunch was ready, and they both stopped their "opinionating" to look at me, so I said on taking me leave, "Stondin' here, I couldn't help but be a party ta yer conversation. I thank ye both for the honesty and will leave ya with this; I think I have a man that would satisfy ya both, so on 20 January, you can coom pick Obama up in Washington, and he'll be all yers. Solve your problems; he will get that Celtic Tiger, so he's completely dead, and the British economy will be turned on its rear end. Good luck to ya." And so I took me sannies and left them staring at me; not a word did they say. At least until I was out the door.
SIGH
Gabe
Copyright © 2011 All rights reserved
I totally understand your accent Gabe :-)
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