Kitchen Of The Dragon

Other Half hates calling the local Chinese takeaway place. Despite her perfectly enunciated English accent, they never seem to understand what she's saying. This is one of the most entertaining pastimes I currently have. I will quite happily pick up the chores for a couple of days if I can get her to ring to place the order. The feeling I get when she picks up the phone and takes a deep breath, well. It makes me want to get popcorn, because this is a Show. The beauty of it is that this happens to her every single time, and yet if I, in my charming Scottish brogue, were to call instead, it would take about thirty seconds and we would all understand one another without question.

For the purposes of being confidential, or at least not inviting everyone to our old house - I wouldn't advise that you visit anyway, it smells like cat wee and mould right now, unless that's your thing, in which case have a blast - I won't use our real old address.

Takeaway: Hello, Kitchen of the Dragon, what can I get you?

Other Half: Hi there. Can I make an order for delivery please?

Takeaway: A what?

Other Half: An order.

She's already looking at me with despairing eyes.

Takeaway: What's your address?

Other Half: 40 Hillwood Crescent.

Takeaway: 40...?

Other Half: Hillwood Crescent.

Takeaway: Hillwood...?

Other Half: (pinches nose) Crescent.

Takeaway: 30 Hillwood Crescent?

Other Half: 40! 40 Hillwood Crescent.

Takeaway: 40 Hillwood Crescent. Could you spell that?

Other Half puts her head in her hands and pleads with me silently to take the phone. Of course I'm too busy gasping for air and rofl-ing, as I believe the street term is.

Takeaway: Okay, what would you like?

Other Half: Could we please have some seaweed-

Takeaway: One seaweed...sorry, can I just check that's 40 Hillwood Crescent?

Other Half: Um, yes. Seaweed and chicken curry, and some egg fried-

Takeaway: Sorry... 40 Hillwood Crescent?

Other Half: Yes.

Takeaway: Okay, go on.

Other Half: (clearly wishing this call was over) Egg fried rice-

Takeaway: Sorry...was it Hill Wood, or Hillwood?

Other Half hands me the phone with a long-suffering sigh and trudges off to get plates and cutlery ready. I finsih the call in about 5 and a half seconds, and go into the kitchen.

Other Half: I don't know why they don't understand me!

Me: They're expecting to hear slurred speech, honey. This is Scotland. I expect you catch them off guard.

Other Half: This is a bloody stupid country.

Me: I agree wholeheartedly.

And so I do. But I do love the entertainment value.