A while back, I had the opportunity to shift focus and start work in a new area. This meant I got to keep all my old material and fling it at a somewhat interested new audience.
I now sit across from and in front of a couple of cheeky and charming British women both of whom have accents I could and do listen to all day.
Not long after I pulled up stakes and joined this group, another of my team members remarked to the British contingent while I was away:
"Isn't it a coincidence that all the Brits ended up sitting near each other?" to which the question was raised "Who do you mean?" "Well, you two and Dale. You all ended up sitting together!" "Dale's not British." "Oh? I thought he was because of his accent."
My voice, if you've heard it, does not sound like I was raised in the United Kingdom. This is largely because, I wasn't. My voice has a simple east coast Canadian trying not to sound too much like the trash I came from tone to it.
I'm not sure what we can learn from my co-worker's aural error other than to put some stock in the fact that perhaps regular ear cleaning can help you understand the world around you.
In the meantime, I remain pleased to sit near good folk who have an excellent and intriguing command of the language, who still laugh at my tired old jokes and who are as charming as fuck.
When I can't say anything nice . . .
16 hours ago