Clareified

There is a car service that will take me from my apartment to the airport for dirt cheap.
The only catch is, the drivers and dispatchers only speak Spanish.
So everytime I fly anywhere, I have to call my mother and ask her to make the reservation for me. And, heaven help me if they don’t show up at the appointed hour, I then have to call my mom at five in the morning to have her call them to find out where the hell they are.
But hey, I save seven dollars.
This morning was no different, I arranged for them to come get me at 6:00 and sure enough at 6:01, I climbed into the van.
The driver looked at me in silence.
Prepared, I said: JFK. US Airways Domestic.
“Que?”
I repeated my sentence again. Slower.
Still no signs of recognition.
After my third attempt failed, I dialed my mom.
(That’s right. Things go wrong I call my mommy, what? You want to fight about it? Cause I will call her to kick your ass too. I’ve got no shame.)
I told her that this dude has no idea what I’m saying and gave her my information.
I put the phone on speaker and let her speak to him.
AND THIS IS WHAT SHE SAID:
“Si. EL JFK aereoporto. El US Airways. Domestico.”
The driver’s face lit up and he said “Ah, US Airways,” but with a thick Dominican accent.
DUDE.
I sit there for ten minutes, but you’re all confused because I did say “el” and add an “o” to airport???
WTF.
Let the hunt begin.

This entry was posted by Dawn Summers on Thursday, April 5th, 2007 at 2:26 pm and is filed under Personal. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.