My birthday on Friday was indeed the best ever.
I had the pleasure of hanging out with some of the most talented actresses, models, animal right activists (slash immigrantgay hater - BB). We all had a great time surrounded by hundreds if not thousands of some of my favorite people - Critical Massers. Dita told me that I looked much better in my spandex outfit than Marilyn Manson ever will in latex, and the rest of the ladies agreed. I am not sure if this was post divorce angry talk and an attempt to score on a rebound, but it sure did feel good and it cancelled out all the hostility I've been getting with the :"Get off the road you f@$%# !" comments while dressed in my cycling outfit.
As the ride was passing through Logan Square, I decided to say my goodbyes, split off, and head towards my apartment in Lincoln Sq. On the way, I encountered a bunch of drunk Cubs fans marauding onto the streets from their "$12 Bud Light buckets and 10 cent wings" corner bar, singing the Go Cubs Go anthem - off tune. The Cubs had clinched the division! All we need to do now is keep our hands away from foul balls, and they might actually go all the way. Nah!
I got home, showered, and changed into my party clothes. A friend was throwing a party in her glamorous 1 bedroom apt. in a trendy WickerS Park neighborhood. Or was it BuckStown? Not really sure, but it is trendy. At the party, I had the honor of meeting a real Scotsman. Living in Chicago you run into a lot of Irishmen and Englishmen, but Scots are a hard find. At first I didn't know what to say, he was surrounded by a crowd of people trying to talk to him about stuff. All I kept repeating in my head was: " Please don't be the first person to bring up Braveheart or quilts!". Let me tell you, if guys are fans of the women with the french accent (I've heard that Russian is also in but my being of Slavic roots, it doesn't do much for me), women at the party were all "one finger playing with the hair and one leg up" over this guy's talk. You could be balding and 100 punds overweight, as soon as you opened your mouth you'd become freakin' Sean Connery. As someone who prides himself on being able to immitate various accents (my Apu and Arnold are superb), it was discouraging to realize that my Scottish is way off. I will never again do my Groundskeeper Willie or the "Choose Life..." monologue from Trainspotting. Eventually, we talked about soccer and the fact that I knew about Motherwell kinda impressed him. Unfortunately I forgot to bring up "The Flying Scotsman" - a movie about a famous Scottish track cyclist. Maybe next time.
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6 comments:
Don't say your accent can't compete with the Scottish accent. The beauty about speaking with any European accent in the US is that it's all equally exotic and sexy to an American-born, blissfully untrained ear. Am I wrong?
Last night I was watching the Cubs game with friends and one guy told me that my accent sounds like I am from Kuwait???????. I never heard that one before. Talk about untrained ears. Maybe it was all the $2 Old Styles that impaired his hearing.
Maybe the Kuwait accent _is_ like your Herzegovinian accent. Have you looked into that?
Note how we sound like arrogant European assholes beneath all our joviality.
Arrogance is sexy!!!
Oh no...that would be confidence.
What's the difference anyway???
And my Herzegovinian accent is more like Bahraini than Kuwaiti.
Aye, the accent's all right when ye're gabbin at a pairty, but it's a real !@#$er tryin tae type it, nae joke. But yon lassie's right - if ye're fae across the big pond any accent'll huv these Americans gaggin fur a wee bittie sumhin.
Toodle pip, putata chips x
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