The technology of English

My old man had decided it was time for a new computer. I don't know if it was because he was tired of getting the punch cards mixed up, or if he wanted to reclaim a thousand square feet of his house, but it was time.

You have to understand, dad hasn't progressed technologically since 1969. He still wants to know how they make those teeny tiny little vacuum tubes that go into IPODS and LCD TVs. So when he decided it was time for a new machine, he entrusted it to me. He asked me if it would cost more than $100,000 and if he would have to clear out the basement.

In retrospect, I should have said yes and paid off my mortgage. Still, I like to imagine myself to be a good person. I try anyways.

Theres a really awesome computer store I go to in a nearby city. It takes about a half hour to drive there, but it's definitely worth it. They always have lots of stock, their prices are good, the staff is knowledgeable and they are open on Saturday's. The downside? They're from either India or Pakistan, and all of them have extremely thick accents.

Having done my homework, I already knew what I wanted and I walked in and asked them for it, by model number. They understand me as well as I understand them, so after a few confused verbal exchanges I show them the computer I wanted on their own website.

The store clerk told me they had a better machine for less money already built on that shelf over there. Well, that's what he tried to say. What I heard was this:
"Dip monga holla bana dip dooly nipple mattta bannanna fwanna drools!"

After a few minutes of frustrated exchanges, I finally understood what he meant. Looking at the machine, it was indeed a better machine for less money. I was instantly impressed, this man valued customer happiness over making more money. I wouldn't have known the difference anyways. This just reinforced my liking of this particular store.

I noticed that the machine had windows Vista on it. I didn't want Vista, so I asked him if I could get Windows XP instead.
"dunga matta dip longa whoona fwunga darcheese," came the reply.

I eventually translated that to mean he'd give me the XP liscence in exchange for the Vista liscence, and a burnt windows CD.

"Great!" I said, "I'll buy it!"

And he heard

"sping boggin wanta funna billo fuming abtoooo."

Half an hour later, after all the appropriate translations, I walked out with the machine tucked under my arm.

I got the computer set up and working, with virus software, Microsoft Office and every bell and whistle they'd need. Now comes the fun part, all the phone calls. How do you do this? Why did the machine do that? Training my parents is always fun.

The moral of the story? I'm going to learn Hindu for next time I have to go to this store. It's a great store, and I'm pretty sure learning their language would SAVE time. At least, I think it will.

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