Jack showed our home to Harold on Tuesday. Sticking with our good-cop, bad-cop routine, Harold called me so I could get a chance to see what I thought of him.
What I thought is that I need my ears checked. Harold's drawl was so thick, I only caught half of what he said. What I did understand is that he owns a home near the house Ms. Angie lives in. He wants to move because the neighborhood is rough.
I wish I wouldn't have understood that.
When I called Jack later, I explained how inadequate and helpless I felt because of the language barrier. I didn't want to embarrass Harold. It wouldn't have mattered how loud he spoke, or how slowly. As long as he spoke Southern, I was going to have trouble. Hopefully he understood me with my "accent."
Within 20 minutes from the time we spoke, Harold faxed over his application. He dutifully included on his own a pay stub from his employer--which I hadn't asked for. He completely filled out everything, including adding phone numbers where necessary. He included a photo ID and even gave me his girlfriend's name. From what I understand, she won't be living there, but coming in and out.
At least I think that is what he said. Honestly, I am not sure.
On paper, Harold looks great. I hope his credit/background/eviction history are just as charming. And, I hope he has e-mail. Because, until I dust off my Southern drawl-to-English dictionary, it apprears that will be the only way we are going to be able to chat.
One last thing: today's public service is sponsored by the evils of melanoma. There is no shame in being pale. Skin cancer is bad. SPF 50 is good.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
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1 comment:
I completely understand. Sometimes I have to use all my concentration ability to listen as closely as I can just so that I can get most of what is being said. It's like a whole different language. I've learned some new "sayings" since I've been here too.
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