It was the beginning of the year here, in September or so. I and a friend were in the launderette reading each our book while waiting for our clothes to get clean and dry. A cute guy walks in and, as custom was in those days, a conversation started immediately. We talked a bit and eventually he asked where we were from. My friend said the US (no one will voluntarily admit to being from Texas as long as Bush is in power...), I said Norway. And then I asked where he's from.
He: - Oh, can't you hear it?
I : - No, not really.
He: - I'm from Ireland. I thought the dialect would be obvious.
I: - Well, I am not good at English dialects; to me there's just, English English, American English and weird English. (Said in a tone of obvious irony, hinting at my inadequacy in recognising various English dialects.)
He: - Oh. Don't you think that's a bit shallow?
For a guy who was studying psychology at an MA level I think he had understood very little.
02 June 2006
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