Speaklish portendo kuklamondo


I spent the better part of a year last weekend in various airports, buses, restaurants and venues on America's "Left Coast." Interesting places to see, not much real history, certainly forgettable in most cases once you get indoors. Seen one mountain in the distance, they all look alike.

What I didn't admire was that nearly everybody there speaks something of a language that entitles them to not understand what I said. I have some ideas on how this happens in a place that's inundated with the fear that not being inclusive somehow will exclude you permanently from participation.

So all the stores and eateries that are owned by people who don't speak English are hiring the college-age (read that: cheap) labor that speaks "some" English, which is interpreted by the non-English speaker as being "enough" English.

Hey, I speak enough Spanish to ask somebody how to find somebody who speaks English. I can also, in Russian, ask a Russian where a U.S. bank is located. There, I assume, somebody speaks English.

But I ask for a pizza on America's "Left Coast" and the kid looks at me as if he didn't understand what I wanted. In truth, he DIDN'T. Don't even try asking somebody a question over the phone. You can't just say, "I don't understand you," because the person on the other end doesn't understand you well enough to say "Oh, let me get somebody who speaks English better."

It's "Ve don um yeah, no I taw my supuhvish huh? No, yeah, oh, OK. Tangs."

Just being available for work ought to come with something that resembles qualifications. Then again, a person who speaks no English at all would be impressed with a dog that can "ralph or roof" with any regularity.

Hire the fuckin' dog. At least it will come when you call it.

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