When my younger brother was much younger than he is now, he had this really adorable habit of answering the phone, "Hello," and if it wasn't anyone he knew, setting the handset down on the counter and wandering away. I imagine this annoyed telemarketers and charities to no end.
I am always trying to be polite to these people, because we all need jobs and frankly, they are far better than car salesmen (apologies to readers who are, but the next time one of you slimy bastards oozes up to me and tries to sell me something with a sun roof when all I want is to know is the gas milage, I swear on a stack of Danish dictionaries someone is going to learn the definition of "smerte").
Anyway I had the following conversation yesterday:
Archaeogoddess: "Hello?" (I never answer the phone with the proper Danish greeting, it just does NOT come out of my mouth until after "hello" and most of the time not even then.)
Danish woman: Garble garble garble garble garble....
AG: *interrupting* Oh, um, jeg kan taler lit dansk. ("Oh, um, I can speak little Danish.")
Danish woman: Oh. Kender du Fotex og Bilka? ("Do you know Fotex and Bilka?")
***Quick aside: Fotex and Bilka are Safeway and Walmart-ish stores***
AG: *slightly confused as to where this conversation is leading* Fotex and Bilka? (Interior monologue: crap, if she wants directions she's got another thing coming, I have NO idea where Bilka is other than NOT IN DOWNTOWN ÅRHUS.)
Danish woman: *switching to English in frustration* Did you get the advertisement (pronounced the British way: ad-VERT-is-ment) for Fotex and Bilka this week?
AG: (Interior monologue: why did you lose yours? Is there some sort of mysterious shortage of Fotex and Bilka flyers?) *still confused* I don't know.
Danish woman: *detectable note of rising frustration* You don't KNOW?
AG: *happily, because I am finally able to add something intelligent to the conversation* No, when I get ads I just throw them all away!
Danish woman: *quickly realizing this is a lost cause* Oh, never mind then, thank you! *hangs up*
My husband points out that we have a "no, thank you" on our mailbox so we don't get those ads. The ads I'm throwing away every week are those that come through the mail and are in the newspaper. Don't ask me how we can request that we don't receive ads and then still get ads anyway, I'm a stranger here myself. (And please don't explain to me why this happens in the comment section, this mystery of Danish commercialism is filed under "don't really care.")
Other conversations of note:
After a long day, following a previous night of restless and intermittent sleep, my husband and I, exhausted and quite out of our heads, retired to the bed. As one does, I put my head on his chest.
Danish Boy: Your head is really heavy.
AG: That's because it's full of smarts. *Moves head* You know, a head only weighs 8 pounds, the same as a baby. I'm just trying to toughen you up for when we have one.
***Quick aside: Before you all get excited - NO, I am NOT pregnant and NO we are not trying, so stop bouncing in your seat and waving your hands about excitedly.***
DB: Yes, but a baby is all spread out and not round like a ball.
AG: My head is not round like a ball.
DB: Okay, like a cheese then.
Normally, I do not mock my husband's accent and normally I do not correct his pronunciation as long as it is close enough to be understood. This is because 1) I think it's rude to correct pronunciation if it's just slightly off and 2) I really HATE it when people do it to me. However, it seems I need to work with him on a few small things, like the letter V.
DB: I had some nice people in the cab today.
DB: Two women and a little boy. The women were originally from Africa, but now one lives in New York, wore western dress and spoke English, and the other one spoke beautiful Danish and wore a whale.
***These conversations have been approved for posting by my husband, who is beginning to have dreams of me becoming a world famous blogger who will be able to support us both with my cunning wit and mad typing skills.***