The Corporate Vagabond

After lunch I returned to my cubicle and around 1:30 decided to indulge in a cup of coffee. Coffee being a increasingly infrequent for me, due to my mixed reactions to anything more than a half a diluted cup of green tea.  By a couple sips in I knew it was a bad idea, but I was already in it, deeply committed. My thoughts we racing and I felt euphoric and ready to WWF (the fake wrestling group not the environmentalist group) body slam someone. After finishing the espresso shot I did the next best thing, which was to make some phone calls. Reading through my list of students who had not yet submitted all of their application documents, I found one missing Financial Aid papers. I tried her cell phone but it was non-operative, so I decided to try her home phone. I should bare to mention that calling home phones is something I have always strayed away from due to the fact that very few of my applicants families (I presume) speak English. So after a couple rings a woman answered in what sounded like something close to an English hello. At least it didnt sound ridiculous like the Bulgarian (awwo?) hello. I introduced myself in English and before I was finished I heard the click of being hung up upon. "No, you may not speak to ------" said my co-worker snarkily. In my revved-up state I was undeterred like a Harley barreling towards a tornado. So I called again this time and I had to wait a little longer. When the woman picked up, I put on the Russianest voice I had in my memory banks and asked her in the few Russian words I know, if I could talk to her daughter. She started talking back to me and that was when I realized I had no exit plan for this situation. I had thought I would ask to speak to her daughter and she would obligingly acquiesce, without using any of her own words. But the words they were flying at me. I stumbled, synapses firing. Not wanting to ruin the integrity of my foreign language conversation, I began haltingly speaking in Bulgarian while racking my brain for non-vulgar Russian words to throw in the mix. That way I would be able to at least pretend to my coworkers. Just an actively bi-lingual guy like the rest of you. Aint no thing. But they had already started with the commentary on the my precocious attempt at speaking not-english. "Da... Nyet.... Amerikanski Universitet.... Ako mozhete da pricham with your daughter." She didn't understand me, so I figured it would be ruder of me to stay on the line than hang up, so I quickly said my Dosvidnye's and tore the phone from my ear. My face was flushed with embarrassment and concentration. I sat through a couple minutes of patronizing compliments about my accent and then the din subsided to the pitter/patter sound of uncalloused fingers hitting keyboard. Know your limits and remember it's refreshing to feel uncomfortable sometimes, the audience usually forgets about your embarrassment 10 minutes later anyways. Thats what I learned today. One of those three-fold morals... I mean... Not to get too preachy.