Talks Like Waterfall

I have named her Talks Like Waterfall. She has short blonde hair, fashionably square glasses, and she smokes. She looks good in blue jeans. She is a waitress at Pizzeria Roma. While I sit writing she comes in to the bar area to smoke and relax. While she is there she will turn to me and unleash a torrent of czech. (Although for all I know she just babbling at me to mess with my mind.)

Normally when she does this I just feel stupid. I don’t know the words she’s saying, but the message is You’re still here and you still don’t know czech? Only tonight it was a little different. She came into the bar and despite the fact I knew she was going to waterfall me I was glad to see her. I gave her a smile and she said “czech czech blah blah dobrý večer”.

I was so surprised to understand anything she said I almost didn’t answer. “Dobrý Večer” I said back. Good evening. She smiled.

It’s only fair to assume she throws the czech at me to mess with me. She has every right to test me, and to expect me to make some effort to learn the language of the land. Still, she doesn’t make it easy. I was at the bar with Fuego the other night and the czech she threw our way was too fast for him to pick up, and he’s pretty fluent. Talks Like Waterfall does not necessarily want to be understood.

Really, though, she does want to be understood, but on her terms. She wants me to prove I’m not passing through, to prove that I’m willing to commit to a new language and a new culture. She is challenging me. The possibility of knowing the meaning behind the waterfall is enticing. How sweet the day when she unleashes her torrent and I can answer back with a stream of my own.

It’s too bad she smokes, though.

14 thoughts on “Talks Like Waterfall

  1. Talks like waterfall = Smokes like Skoda?

    Really Jer, smoking is just the symptom of an oral fixation. And I’m not going to go there. Not right now anyway.

    Vote Squirrels!

  2. I love it that you have given her an “Indian Name”. I love it more that you are talking to her. She might give up the smoking. I did…

  3. Brian? Are you a squirrel sympathizer? A yellow-bellied squirrel lover? Anyone near Brian, keep watch for the warning signs…keep him away from on-coming traffic and nuts!

  4. They say no vote is ever wasted, but in the case of voting for me to have class you’re coming pretty close to throwing it away.

  5. I notice that the one that dares to call me names goes by none themselves. Just think of the horror if a squirrel lover made MOH! Be very afraid!

    Class has no place in MR&HBI.

  6. Sundays can be slow, but it seems likely that the Big number will be hit sometime Sunday (in the US). There has been an even larger than usual flux of egg-fryers this weekend. A while ago I looked and 17 of the most recent 20 hits were fryers. Just so you contenders know what you’re up against.

  7. Well, I, for one, am ready for a new MOH, Mr.7k’s (AKA Bob’s) second term seems to have been about as effective as the egg-fryer we had before! Grand statements, and no follow through. Like a true Democrat. (Noting the Rebublicants make grand statements that turn out to be lies!) I hope the next MOH is a Practicing Not For Salarian!

  8. Hmm, there might be some confusion on the ballot from the PNFS (Pray Not For Squirrels) party. Oh, a recount is all but assured for this (s)election!

  9. I’m no MOH, but it is distinctive to say that I am number 9999. Pretty cool. You know Jerry, 10000 hits ain’t no trailer house – that’s a lot of hits for an itinerant fry cook from Muskogee. You should be proud.

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