The letters of our thoughts are the ideas present in our mind before they come to realization . . . Thoughts that are, yet not felt . . . The words of the subconscious . . . of the soul . . .

These are the LETTERS OF MY THOUGHTS.

Wednesday, April 26, 2006

On the Lighter (Polish) Side of Things

Or Polish Taxis
My experience ordering a taxi . . .

Time: 3:00 A.M.
Place: Słomenskiego 17


Our hero, Mottel, picks up the phone a precedes to dial . . .
Dispatcher: Dzein Dobry! (Good day!)
Mottel (to himself): Isn't it still night . . .?
Dispatcher: Co? (What?)
Mottel: Nothing . . . Do you speak English?
Dispatcher: No, I'm sorry, but I am not proficient in the English language . . . please wait while I transfer you to an English peaking colleague.
Bad Polish rock music plays for a few minutes while on hold . . .
Dispatcher 2: Dobry wieczór (Good Evening!)
Mottel: Uhmm . . . well then. I'd like to order two taxis for Slomenskiego 17 -to come in an hour.
Dispatcher 2: Co?
Mottel: Two Taxis for Słomenskiego 17 at Four o'clock please.
Dispatcher 2: Robi wy rozumiecie Język polski?
Mottel: What? I thought you spoke English!
Dispatcher 2: I speak!!
Mottel: Do you then . . . fine.
Dispatcher 2: You one Taxi at 6:00 . . . Dzika street, no?
Mottel: What?
Dispatcher 2: Co?
Mottel: No! I want . . .
Dispatcher 2 (interrupting): Moment . . .
The Dispatcher hangs up on Mottel . . . Unfazed, Mottel dials once more.
Dispatcher 1: Dobry Wieczór! (Good evening)
Mottel: Good, you're the one that speaks English!
Dispatcher 1: No, as I previously told you, I do not speak English. Please wait while I switch you over to someone who does.
Mottel: But . . .
Bad Polish rock music plays for a few minutes while on hold . . .
Dispatcher 2: Dzein Dobry! (Good Day)
Mottel: Yes . . .
Dispatcher 2: Tak?
Mottel: No . . .
Dispatcher 2: Nie?
Mottel: Please . . .
Dispatcher 2: Nienawidzę tę odurzoną pracę. Ja było zapłacone lepszy jak pani czyszczenia!
Mottel: Do you speak English?
Dispatcher 2: Speak? I? You speak Russian?
Mottel: No
Dispatcher 2: French?
Mottel: What? No! English!
Dispatcher 2: Co?
Mottel: English . . . you know? Hollywood. America. English?
Dispatcher 2: I speak!
Mottel: Do you then . . . I wanted the taxis before. The other dispatcher told me that you speak English.
Dispatcher 2: Oh, why didn't you say so in the first place? I'll have two taxis sent to Slomenskiego 17. They should be arriving at 4:00 promptly. Punctuality is our pride!
Mottel: Thank you.
Dispatcher 2: Co?
ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł ł
At 4:30 one taxi pulls up in front of Slomenskiego 17. The Taxi Driver looks at Mottel and the other Bochurim with annoyance . . . "I've been waiting with three other taxis on Dzika st. for the past half hour . . ."

6 comments:

Sefirah said...

is this a true story?

Mottel said...

The story is true, but I've taken some poetic license in the dialogue . . .

Anonymous said...

Reb Mottele,do you have more
stories ???

Mottel said...

As time goes on . . .
But please post with a name -even a pseudonym

secret admirer said...

OH This is SOOOO funny.

I read it twice, at this rate I will never get to the other 740 (and counting) posts.

Mottel: English . . . you know? Hollywood. America. English?
Hysterical.

Mottel said...

Life certainly was funnier back then . . .