Saturday night. Out with the girls. Gettin’ loose, feelin’ frisky. Tonight is the night. We can be whoever we want to be. And who do we want to be? An Aussie, several different Europeans, and a Jersey girl. We took one for the collective #GirlSquad and fooled our driver with various accents so you need not worry any longer.
As we leave Katie’s place and head to our first destination, Katie takes the conversational lead. The high school Spanish teacher we know and love, born and raised in Seattle, is gone. This is Katharine. Where in England is she from? No one knows, especially Yohannes, our chauffeur from Ethiopia. When he asks Katie what her native language is, and she replies in her most English manner, “English,” he says, “Nooooo. Swedish.” Way to go Katharine. Killing two accent birds with one poorly shaped stone!
It’s a long ride to bar #1. Lots of time for talking. I’ve inhabited the mind and heartsoul of Tawny, the dry, witty Australian who pretends not to know how inappropriate it is to ask Katie’s friend how Asian he is. How long have I been in the states?
“Oy don’t know. Three yiz?”
“Are you from England?” asks Yohannes.
“No. Sydney,” I reply. I’m. Crushing it.
The conversation naturally steers its way to the east coast. When Katie ever so Britishly asks Johannes if he thinks Americans are nice, he quickly tells us that he heard people in New York are rude. Cue Elaine.
“That’s incorrect. People aw very nice in New Jersey.”
Different state but she nailed it all the same. Johannes will think twice before he tells a car full of world citizens the negative things he hears about particular regions. He’ll also reconsider before asking someone where they’re from.
It was hard work but we thrived. We educated. We enlightened. If you’ve ever considered adopting an accent for the evening in an attempt to trick people into thinking you have a personality, take it from us: the louder and weirder you say words, the faster your Lyft driver will get you where you want to go!