Por Favor De No
Entrar Cuandro La
Puerto Esta Cerrada.
Gracias.
It never ceases to amaze me that with as many native Spanish speakers as we have on hand, as a business our Spanish is absolutely atrocious. The sign has been up for a very long time, and I'm guessing that one of my fellow employees just couldn't take it any more. I came in last week only to find that the sign had been defaced! Horror of horrors, all of the mistakes had been corrected with a Sharpie marker. My lead tech thought it looked tacky corrected, so she rubbed the marker marks off and the sign went back to its illiterate [tacky?] self.
Fascinated with the end of the road as I am, I returned this past weekend to the Skyline for some polka goodness. As I've noted in the past, it's an elderly but a lively crowd. Free popcorn abounds, which no one can eat because practically everyone in the audience (so they tell me) has diverticulitis. I was not given any complimentary popcorn during this trip, and I suspect I was being discriminated against for being under the age of 80. In a fit of good temper, I decided to hold off on a lawsuit.
The trombonist to the right took a tumble off the stage at one point as he dismounted from his stool. No one, myself included, made a move to help the man up because, frankly, we'd all expected the fall to kill him. No need in hurrying to pick up a dead body when there's free popcorn to be had. As it turns out, he was only slightly dazed from the fall and lived to play another set.
At the end of the first set the lead singer announced all of the polka dancers who had died since the previous Sunday. (If necessary, I imagine she would have announced the death of the fallen trombone player as well.) Then she sang happy birthday to all of the dancers who had hit 90 that weekend and were likely to be dead by next Sunday. And then it's Carol's turn! As soon as this woman plugs her accordion into her amp, she's unstoppable!
This stuff ain't right.
No comments:
Post a Comment