|Sail Boston 2009...by R.J. Grady|
But sometimes, those sounds do make you smile. You can't help it.
Today I visited a store where the clerk, a middle-aged gentleman who hailed from Barcelona, I think, was struggling with his printer. Very polite. Made every effort to ensure I understood exactly the terms of the contract. Waved his hands a bit. And then when the contract refused to print he began mumbling, "Paper yam. It has a paper yam."
There was picking up the tray, turning it upside down, crumpling paper, pushing of buttons, turning around, asking the customer that entered the store, "Un momento, please. S'okay? I am having a paper yam," and other bits of dancing behind the counter. There was putting the phone on speaker while he waited for another patron to come back on the line...canned music filled the air.
Had it been another day, I might have eyed the circus with dread, knowing the receipt would never print. But you know, Javier made it worth the wait. Eventually he won the battle with the recalcitrant printer, we shook hands and I continued on with my day.
I would never trade the world we live in with another. It's too full of intriguing people, with and without accents.