I got a call from New York.
On the message they left I could make out my somewhat enunciated name and the number I should call back. The rest of the message was the worst mangling of the English language I’d ever heard in my life!
It was like someone with a mouthful of marbles trying to speak to me while gargling: Fully unintelligible.
Minutes later they called back a second time, sounded like the same person, again enunciating my name and the phone number I should call, and obliterating everything else.
I can’t even guess at the accent: Anything from German to Pakistani.
It’s actually angered me so much that I blocked their freaking number.
Gargling at me with a mouthful of marbles? How DARE you speak to me that way?
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Have you become a fan?
Look for my story Cedo Looked Like People, in the anthology, FEAR THE REAPER, edited by Joe Mynhardt. Available from Crystal Lake Publishing and available in Print for $12.99 or eBook for $2.99.
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Cotton Candy on a Waffle Cone, Mission Beach, California
I’m job hunting, which means I updated my resume on Monster.com and Career Builder. What that also means, and I understand this in advance, is that phone sales people and general idiots and companies that manufacture and sell general idiots, will call me.
I have not opened my phone and address up to the general public, who tend not to be idiots. But I have opened myself up to the general idiots who rent a broom closet and landline phone in an office building or public storage facility and seek to sell jobs to people like me.
So I have calls from unknown phone numbers go straight to voice mail for weeding.
The voice mail I speak of today is from what sounds like a woman and went like this,
“Hi, dis messab ib bor Ebwab. Ebwab, bis ib Besseshblubbublah. Bis craw ib regarbing bor Debblobby Bumbaclod stubee bawwing Houston, Texas. I came acrob uh job orberbor Ebub Mumumum, be Blumbumblum da resume ab Momber.bom. Bib ib in behalb ob BluBlurBubub. Bleb crawme ab blimbompum. Be bimb you could be a perfect fit. Aga, bis ib Besseshblubbublah. Blee craw me ah 800-XXX-XXXX. Bangbu n hab a grabe’ay.”
I couldn’t detect the tell-tale audio fuzz of a bad connection, but what else could it be? The phrase, “You could be a perfect fit” was the only part of the entire thing that made any sense. Maybe I’d been listening to a Vogon speak poetry and, for but a moment, a Babel Fish swam in and out of my ear.
I’m not sure if this is a job offer or a sales pitch, but whatever it is, it’s going down in Houston, Texas and I could be a perfect fit.
Well, what would you do if you were looking for a job (not to mention curiosity)? Naturally I called the number. I got a voicemail in what sounded like the same woman’s voice,
“Hi. Yuub hab reab Besseshblubbublah ah Debblobby Bumbaclod ob Houston, Texas. Pleeb leeb ah bois maid an I bill craw you bebor embbaday. Bangew bor crawing am habba nice day.”
I’m stunned, which is a few houses up the street from surprised.
I make myself some lunch.
I watch a few brief YouTube videos.
I watch a little TV, flip around the channels.
I call a few friends and we chit the chat.
No problem. It is not my hearing or my phone.
I cannot figure out this language, dialect, accent, slang, nothing!
I’m not calling this person with the atrocious grasp of English an idiot, as I have no ability to perceive her intellect at all.
I have traveled the world, but never heard anyone speak like this in my life.
Yet they have a business in Houston, Texas!
They think I’d be a perfect fit!?!