The scene opens with Rebekah coming downstairs with a smelly baby who has just awakened from his nap and the first tomato juice of the season processing on the stove after a long afternoon of gutting and cooking. She is dismayed to hear someone knocking.
Dude On Doorstep: You look like the mom.
Rebekah (holding and surrounded by kids): Right.
DOD: I'm sorry about my accent. I'm from Europe.
Rebekah: Oh, where in Europe?
DOD: Estonia. Most people don't know where that is.
Rebekah: Right above Latvia and Lithuania?
DOD (looking shocked): How did you know that?
Rebekah: We like geography. Hey, kid. What are the colors of Estonia's flag?
Kid: (Makes face and then hides like a jerk.)
Rebekah (so as not to offend Estonian further): Blue, black, and white, right?
DOD (dumbfounded): Are you a homeschooler?
(Curtain)
No, Estonian dude, I just hang out with them on the internet. He also failed to stump me on why flamingos are pink and what rhinos' horns are made of. I tried to comfort him by explaining that I simply consider it my job as a mother to know these things. Sadly, his product was so redundant and expensive that I couldn't help him out even after we spent at least half an hour discussing it on my porch.
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9 comments:
I'm beginning to be glad that my street is not only under construction, but also not easy to get to, as well as being an uphill climb.
I just felt honored that he wanted to talk to me for so long.
These people know no shame.
Thanks for sharing. I love it when you flabbergast people.
PS -- I do not now approve nor have I ever approved of flamingos being pink, neither do I approve of their methods.
Aw, really? I always liked the pink.
I didn't mean to take the guy on a tour of my favorite useless information, but it just seemed so rude that no one knew where his country was. It wasn't even East Timor (flag colors unknown). The rest of it was related to the "fun and educational" product he was pushing.
Ha! It's more their methods, really. Too watery.
I bet he was faking that accent. I hear Estonian is really easy to pull off.
As for no shame: I used to fake a southern drawl when I worked as a waitress. Got me bigger tips. :D
First: red, black and yellow with a single white star.
Second: any animal that spends its entire day feasting on cute, sweet, helpless little brine shrimp is no friend of mine. The only good flamingo is a dead flamingo. Same goes for puffins.
Finally: I'd really like Act 3 to involve a couple of handsome Mormon lads from Eastern Arizona.
Jonesy
But baby puffins are called pufflings! Have a heart. Reb. Mary's on the horn for Act 3.
Gauntlets, he did have a Finnish name which I thought was a bit suspicious (he admitted it flat out, although I've had some run-ins with Finns so I was onto him anyway). No accent in the world would have gotten me tips of any kind.
Our doorbell's been underused lately, thank goodness. :P Back when BoyOne was BoyOnly, I actually spent 45 minutes or so with the Watchtower folk, out of sheer boredome/loneliness. (Uh, did they think they'd really make any headway at a parsonage?) They did a follow-up visit a few weeks after that, which made me very sad. I mean, it was interesting for my lonely self and all, since I'd taken some time to brush up on their stuff in the meanwhile, but sad. I'd so much rather see people rabidly enthusiastic about overpriced vacuums and redundant products than about eternally incorrect theology.
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