20 March 2012
510
R. Linda:
Well, today was a trip and a half. I found meself in a situation that I had never experienced before. Being stuck in a lift (elevator). Let me start from the beginning for you. I was with another reporter who was born in India and has been in this country for six to seven years. We were both covering a Romney rally and afterwards, since we were staying in the same hotel got a cab together and off we went.
It was around 4 a.m. and we were both pretty knackered, and we had yet to file our stories.
"I have to go to da room on the twelt floor, dere be a makeshift press room oop dere," I said to Raj.
"Oh an me as weel. I thenk it's a poolll for aw aa us at leest that is what I was toad," he answered.
So we decided to go on up together. We stopped in the lobby for messages and got what there were and headed off to the lift. Both of us had checked in earlier in the day and were taken to our respective rooms by bellhops, but this was all on our own. So we step into the lift and the door slides closed and I go to press the button for up and find there are no buttons. None, nowhere in sight. I looked at Raj in question and he looked back at me, also in question. Both of us looked around and then we started feeling the panels, but no, no recess buttons anywhere until a voice came from a speaker above us and said, "What floor please?"
Well, we both almost jumped into each other's arms as the voice suddenly came on and we weren't expecting such. We looked at each other and I cleared me throat and shrugged at him and said, "Twelt."
There was silence and nothing happened and he was looking at me then up at the ceiling where the speaker was.
"Maabee you need tou say it louder," he whispered at me.
"TWELT," I said with authority and volume.
Nothing.
He stepped into the centre of the lift looked up and shouted at the speaker, "TWELF!"
Again nothing, then a voice came over and said, "Please speak slowly and announce your floor."
I sighed at him and stepped up. "FLAOUR TWELT."
We waited, the two of us standing shoulder-to-shoulder in the middle of the lift.
"Somethengs wrongg," he said.
At the same time, we shouted the number. And as before nothing happened. We looked at each other and moved apart self-consciously. Then this came over the speaker: "Please speak slowly and announce your floor. If you need to leave the elevator please say OPEN."
We exchanged glances and at the same time said "OOPIN!"
"I'm sorry I didn't understand that. Please speak slowly and announce your command."
I put a hand up that I would do it. I stepped to the centre of the lift, looked up and loudly and slowly said, "Oopin."
"I'm sorry I didn't understand that. Please speak slowly and announce your command."
Raj gestured it was his turn and he stepped up and said, "Apin!"
"I'm sorry I didn't understand that. Please speak slowly and announce your command."
"Ugh!" I said in frustration to no one in particular and got this, "I'm sorry I didn't understand that. Please speak slowly and announce your command."
Well, we were pretty angry by that time, we were stuck in a metal cube and we couldn't go up, we couldn't go down, we couldn't get OUT! We were talking over each other and the entire time we were debating that we'd probably die in the lift, "the voice" was saying its spiel over and over and over.
Then it hit me. I looked up at the speaker in amazement and shouted, "Siri be dat YOU?"
"Sari? Whut Sari?"
"No not Sari, Siri," I said frustrated now with him!
I explained to Raj about Siri and Jeeves and how neither of them understood me. I was doomed to the Siri's of the world being the new source of command technology and I, AND seemingly Raj, would be the two people in the entire world it would not work for! I was livid and defeated! Yes, defeated R. Linda, never in me born days have I had so much trouble with technology. (See 31 January 2012 iPhone 4S - Jeeves are you there? Siri? Anyone?)
The two of us ended up sitting in opposite corners quietly listening the the voice asking for a command. We pretty much ignored it until Raj shouted up at it, "You arr a weste of mi tim an enagee. Why dought you go an . . . " I stopped him there.
"Raj," I said as the voice continued to ask for a command, "no need for dat dere kinda ting. It obviously duz not speek English."
"Weel you hav an Irish accent so when you speek it sounds like a quesion." This said moodily like the situation was all me fault.
"Well, you have an Indian accent so when you speak it sounds like you are taking an order."
"WHUT?"
"Well, it duz," I said red in the face from hearing that old criticism we Irish hear all the time. I don't think we end our sentences sounding like a question where there is none, but everyone in the world who isn't Irish accuses us of this. As for Raj, I can just hear it in his sentences as if what he's really saying is "Can I tak your orrdeerr? How kin I helllp you?" So there it was, he and I ripping each other and the voice suddenly stopped which give us pause. We looked at each other and then up at the speaker like it would do something. It didn't. Then suddenly we heard mechanical noises and we both jumped up to see the doors open and there were a few people ready to come on. I held a hand to Raj to wait, and I said to the newcomers, "Americans?"
They looked at each other puzzled at this and someone said, "Yeah."
I gestured them aboard and stood back with Raj as one of them said "NINE," and miraculously the lift started up. As were reached the ninth floor we both realised we would be stuck again because we needed to still go up to floor twelve.
"Would one of ye mind goin' to da twelt floor wit us and cooming back doon?" I nearly pleaded. They looked at me like I was crazy and then I explained and they laughed. One of the men said he would, so up we went and off we got and as we were walking to the conference room Raj said, "Goud luck wit getin back to de first flour." Yes, indeed, we needed to find us another American to get us back to the lobby because as we both separated we were both covertly looking for the stairs!
Gabe
Copyright © 2012 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
Well, today was a trip and a half. I found meself in a situation that I had never experienced before. Being stuck in a lift (elevator). Let me start from the beginning for you. I was with another reporter who was born in India and has been in this country for six to seven years. We were both covering a Romney rally and afterwards, since we were staying in the same hotel got a cab together and off we went.
It was around 4 a.m. and we were both pretty knackered, and we had yet to file our stories.
"I have to go to da room on the twelt floor, dere be a makeshift press room oop dere," I said to Raj.
"Oh an me as weel. I thenk it's a poolll for aw aa us at leest that is what I was toad," he answered.
So we decided to go on up together. We stopped in the lobby for messages and got what there were and headed off to the lift. Both of us had checked in earlier in the day and were taken to our respective rooms by bellhops, but this was all on our own. So we step into the lift and the door slides closed and I go to press the button for up and find there are no buttons. None, nowhere in sight. I looked at Raj in question and he looked back at me, also in question. Both of us looked around and then we started feeling the panels, but no, no recess buttons anywhere until a voice came from a speaker above us and said, "What floor please?"
Well, we both almost jumped into each other's arms as the voice suddenly came on and we weren't expecting such. We looked at each other and I cleared me throat and shrugged at him and said, "Twelt."
There was silence and nothing happened and he was looking at me then up at the ceiling where the speaker was.
"Maabee you need tou say it louder," he whispered at me.
"TWELT," I said with authority and volume.
Nothing.
He stepped into the centre of the lift looked up and shouted at the speaker, "TWELF!"
Again nothing, then a voice came over and said, "Please speak slowly and announce your floor."
I sighed at him and stepped up. "FLAOUR TWELT."
We waited, the two of us standing shoulder-to-shoulder in the middle of the lift.
"Somethengs wrongg," he said.
At the same time, we shouted the number. And as before nothing happened. We looked at each other and moved apart self-consciously. Then this came over the speaker: "Please speak slowly and announce your floor. If you need to leave the elevator please say OPEN."
We exchanged glances and at the same time said "OOPIN!"
"I'm sorry I didn't understand that. Please speak slowly and announce your command."
I put a hand up that I would do it. I stepped to the centre of the lift, looked up and loudly and slowly said, "Oopin."
"I'm sorry I didn't understand that. Please speak slowly and announce your command."
Raj gestured it was his turn and he stepped up and said, "Apin!"
"I'm sorry I didn't understand that. Please speak slowly and announce your command."
"Ugh!" I said in frustration to no one in particular and got this, "I'm sorry I didn't understand that. Please speak slowly and announce your command."
Well, we were pretty angry by that time, we were stuck in a metal cube and we couldn't go up, we couldn't go down, we couldn't get OUT! We were talking over each other and the entire time we were debating that we'd probably die in the lift, "the voice" was saying its spiel over and over and over.
Then it hit me. I looked up at the speaker in amazement and shouted, "Siri be dat YOU?"
"Sari? Whut Sari?"
"No not Sari, Siri," I said frustrated now with him!
I explained to Raj about Siri and Jeeves and how neither of them understood me. I was doomed to the Siri's of the world being the new source of command technology and I, AND seemingly Raj, would be the two people in the entire world it would not work for! I was livid and defeated! Yes, defeated R. Linda, never in me born days have I had so much trouble with technology. (See 31 January 2012 iPhone 4S - Jeeves are you there? Siri? Anyone?)
The two of us ended up sitting in opposite corners quietly listening the the voice asking for a command. We pretty much ignored it until Raj shouted up at it, "You arr a weste of mi tim an enagee. Why dought you go an . . . " I stopped him there.
"Raj," I said as the voice continued to ask for a command, "no need for dat dere kinda ting. It obviously duz not speek English."
"Weel you hav an Irish accent so when you speek it sounds like a quesion." This said moodily like the situation was all me fault.
"Well, you have an Indian accent so when you speak it sounds like you are taking an order."
"WHUT?"
"Well, it duz," I said red in the face from hearing that old criticism we Irish hear all the time. I don't think we end our sentences sounding like a question where there is none, but everyone in the world who isn't Irish accuses us of this. As for Raj, I can just hear it in his sentences as if what he's really saying is "Can I tak your orrdeerr? How kin I helllp you?" So there it was, he and I ripping each other and the voice suddenly stopped which give us pause. We looked at each other and then up at the speaker like it would do something. It didn't. Then suddenly we heard mechanical noises and we both jumped up to see the doors open and there were a few people ready to come on. I held a hand to Raj to wait, and I said to the newcomers, "Americans?"
They looked at each other puzzled at this and someone said, "Yeah."
I gestured them aboard and stood back with Raj as one of them said "NINE," and miraculously the lift started up. As were reached the ninth floor we both realised we would be stuck again because we needed to still go up to floor twelve.
"Would one of ye mind goin' to da twelt floor wit us and cooming back doon?" I nearly pleaded. They looked at me like I was crazy and then I explained and they laughed. One of the men said he would, so up we went and off we got and as we were walking to the conference room Raj said, "Goud luck wit getin back to de first flour." Yes, indeed, we needed to find us another American to get us back to the lobby because as we both separated we were both covertly looking for the stairs!
Gabe
Copyright © 2012 All rights reserved
6 comments:
LOL You would have been in a right two and eight had you lost your voice completely ;)~
I can picture this mate, you and Raj going at each other while that infernal voice was egging you both on. I have said it before and I will say it again - Captain Gabe never trust a wench you can't see. When they start talking at you and you can't see em' time to quit the rum or call in a ghostbuster.
an u talk bout me not speekin english lol
Did I forget your spelling?
disembodied women the voice of the future? I think you and capt jack are in for a lot of trouble in elevators, trains, planes, automobiles? LOL
I can see it! A mummified Mr. W slumped in the corner of an elevator because he wasn't understood!LMAO
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