As an English speaking person, who no doubt speaks English better than native born English speakers, using correct grammar, very little slang and with little enough accent, it genuinely astounds me that people (read work colleagues) take me for a retard.
I might not have gone on to university when I left school– I would have dearly loved to, but a) it was too expensive and b) the bursaries I applied for had me shortlisted and when push came to shove, they chose one of the previously disadvantaged applicants as that was the way the cookie crumbled back then (and still does). I did however do four years of my BA long distance but did not have the lump sum it took to write the final exam (it was more than my salary for three months AND I was living on my own due to my unforeseen circumstances relating to the passing on of my mom).
I have completed and am the proud owner of my internationally acclaimed Diploma in Property Finance, which I completed in English eventhough it is not my first language. I even did my BA studies in English. I have probably read more books than all my team together on more diverse subjects, not blinding myself or is that fooling myself, into believing that if I only read biographies of important people, I will look intelligent and people will think I am sooper douper. I pick up new software programmes really fast and tend to think outside a box when there is problems, finding a solution to them. So why oh why….am I …
sitting here, in this specific Hell Dimension today and wondering to myself why I am being spoken to in a loud slow voice generally reserved for Specials and People Who Are Travelling in a Foreign Country Who Know that the Locals Do Not Understand English, by a greying smelly man with the worst halitosis imaginable. If I look up, as he hovers over my shoulder to make sure I understood his inane instructions (and its not like I haven’t done this a million times before, and its not like he actually knows what I am doing on software he has never used before as he is a technophobe) I look straight into the bristles growing out of his bulbous nose and I think to myself “Holy phuck, Batman, get those trimmed or burnt out and back off before I hit you in the delicates with my elbow because you are standing WAY TOO CLOSE.”
Shudder.
I am not – as my one sweet colleague pointed out after I scowled at said boss in a nasty face deforming way – feeling the love today.
No comments:
Post a Comment