So I was at Costa the other day, getting myself a small latte (with an extra shot), when I heard the bird in front of me grumbling about how gigantic her small latte was.
“This is a small? Blimey, it’s almost as bad as the states!”
Yes, she was definitely an Aussie. Understanding her pain, I said to her, “Yeah, it’s not like in Australia, where a small coffee really is a small coffee – it’s just a big glass of hot milk here! You really need the extra shot in order to taste anything.”
Well, how happy she was suddenly, to have found someone she could relate to! We chatted back and forth about the merits of different coffee stores, ending up on the conclusion that the best coffee is back in Australia – a fact I’ve known for ages, of course.
Anyway, then Sandra (possibly not her real name, but she looked like a Sandra) pulled out this gem on me:
Sandra: So I take it you’ve been, then?
Me: What, to Australia? Errr… yes, I’m from Brisbane.
Sandra: (astonished) Really?! I never would have picked that!
Sandra: No, you definitely have an American twang.
What?! An “American Twang”?! I am certainly not equipped with one of those; I don’t even know what it means! I was rather insulted! Well, not really actually – I’m never going to see her again. I was totally over it by the time I got back to work.
Still, I thought it was a rather humerous story, so I told my boss about it when he came around in the afternoon.
Me: …an American Twang! How funny! Can you believe that?
Boss: Well, yeah. You do have an American Twang.
Wrong answer boss! You just got dropped a notch in the book of respect! Pity it’s not me deciding your bonus!!