Speak English or Cry
I was coming home from work on a weekday afternoon, 5:45 or so. The train was pretty packed — all seats taken, lots of people standing, but not crammed in tight. There was a guy near me sitting in one of the single seats. Late 40s, balding, librarian glasses, very old button-down shirt and faded jeans, the uniform of someone who’s worked 30+ years in one place. He’s staring out of the window, livid, clearly came onto the train with his own sets of worries.
Standing above him in the aisle were two early 20s men speaking in Spanish. Not loud, just conversational, no louder or quieter than anyone else on the train.
All of a sudden, the man turns to them, eyes bulging, teeth gritted, nearly in tears, and he loudly hisses “SPEEEEAAAAK…ENGLIISSSSSSSHHHHHH!!!!”
The two men, without missing a beat, start speaking English, but a very exaggerated, “Masterpiece Theatre”-style English. “Oh, very well…would this be the manner of speaking which I ought to be engaging upon, sir?” etc. They continued their conversation to each other in this exaggerated English accent for the rest of the ride, while the man stared out the window, fuming but clearly embarrassed at his outburst.
No comments:
Post a Comment