Monday
Oct, 1, 2001
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Monday Oct, 1, 2001 |
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working with an accent |
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I didn't have to pack my bag this morning. That was welcome. But I did have to ready myself for work. We are picked up by a friendly local guy I haven't seen in years. He's turned gray. We head to the office and I find out I am on for some consultant training first thing. Still slightly deaf with flying and contending with various English, Scottish, Wales accents is challenging but I madke it through. Then they want a couple of us to go see a customer a good distance away from our office. We grab a sandwich and a soda in a small shop. Our local consultant (and driver) and I get the salami and cheese. A fellow comes out, probably the owner, and says, "The salami is the real thing. Not the plastic stuff." We will joke about the plastic stuff for the next couple of days. We blast along the highways, arrive at the customer and I am on my feet presenting and talking. Then we head back to the office and got a small chance at our e-mail. Did I mention that working thousands of miles from home, especially if you are the one on the spot, isn't easy? It isn't a fun deal. It's hard.
Fortunately, our British hosts have planned a nice socialable dinner at a place called the Thatched Roof Pub. It doesn't actually have a thatched roof anymore, but it does have very low ceilings and beams that have been padded to avoid nasty accidents. I have some great soup and a nice liver dish. And a great glass of bitters. My British mates are so kind to entertain us as they have miles to go before bed. As always happens with my British friends, I find myself laughing helplessly at them laughing at themselves and everything around them.
Back in the hotel, I ponder speaking to customers the next day and arrange my possessions to check out in the morning.
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"Imagine there's
no countries
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???
JUST
TYPING