Yesterday, at the farmer's market, someone pointed a leek at me and asked me, "Is this a potato leek?"
"It's a leek," I replied.
"A potato leek?"
"A leek."
"A potato leek?"
Around and around we went, neither of us really understanding the other, until I started to wonder if she knew something I didn't about a shortcut for soup. Unfortunately, that's exactly what she was after.
This reminded me of a friend, who once believed the alphabet came in at 23 letters long, rather than the standard 26, on account of the uncommonly long one that precedes P: elemeno. [CORRECTION: Jerad knows his ABCs. But visit his site anyway.]
Another friend recently confessed that, to this day, she gets north and south confused. (A warning to the Internet: Don't travel America's highway system with someone suffering such delusions. You will not find your destination. In fact, I am still trapped in her car, trying to find Wrentham.)
The beloved This American Life's episode 293 documents what happens when we carry these unfortunate misunderstandings into adulthood. The result, usually, is massive humiliation (and sometimes costly gas consumption). Such as the guy, old enough to order a margarita with his meal, who figured "quesadilla" is Spanish for "What's the deal?" If it's not, I think it absolutely should be.
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3 comments:
I'm not sure I can stand for this libelous post. I don't know anything about this "elemeno" of which you speak. I've got this friend in Somerville who's a lawyer, so you'd better step off.
Really, I've always been a strong believer in a 26-letter alphabet.
Humblest apologies to alphabet-aware Jerad. Who the hell told me that story, then? Come on, fess up.
Maybe you remember it from when you hung out with this band. From the picture on the front page, though, it's probably best that they stay in New Zealand. These guys look a bit more friendly. Most likely, though, is that you were searching for the Perfect Font at one of your old writing gigs.
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