Lesson 6:
The man behind the counter looked just like Bruce Dern, only smaller. Longish gray wispy hair, bright blue eyes, gray stubble, wire-rimmed glasses, a cap, faded blue jeans, white shirt behind a white apron and brown cowboy boots. I was just another customer eating a solitary lunch in hopes of overhearing an interesting conversation for this lesson. I ordered a tuna fish salad and a glass of water and sat down over by the front door but near the ordering counter. The most interesting conversation was actually with the Bruce Dern look-alike and this is how it went.
“Has anyone ever told you, and I know they must have, that you look like Bruce Dern?”
“Since I’ve had this place open, ‘bout four months now, I’ve had ‘bout twelve people tell me that. I don’t think I like it much, I don’t like the way Bruce Dern looks.”
“Well, I think he’s a handsome man, he has played some pretty weird roles and made an effort to look the way he does. You have nothing to be ashamed of. Take it as a compliment.”
“Why, thank you, ma’am.”
I sit down to eat my salad trying desperately to overhear a conversation two women across the room are having but there’s a radio on right behind me and I’m not having much luck eavesdropping. Lori, you should be ashamed for making me do this.
“Is that radio on, I cain’t hear much a anythin’ any more.”
“Yeah, it’s on. Did you get your loss of hearing from going to too many rock concerts when you were younger?”
“Nah, I think it’s from so many gun shots at the rifle range, shootin’ and not protectin’ my ears.”
“My dog has that, too.”
“Why thanks, ma’am, yur comparing me to yur dawg now. First you tell me I look like Bruce Dern and now I remind you of yur dawg.”
“No, that’s not it. When I yell at him sometimes he just kind of looks around and doesn’t seem to know where I am. I think he’s totally deaf in his right ear.”
“Nah, that’s kind of like a marriage thing. You know, I’m not deaf, I’m ignoring you.”
“Ah, that explains a lot of my marriage then.” (laughing)
“Yeah, that’s why I’m not married anymore, I think.” (laughing, too)
“So, would you listen a little harder if you had a second chance then?”
“Heck no, I wouldn’t wanna be married to that’un anyways. But you now, I might make a little more effort. Hehe”
“Are you flirtin’ with me?”
“Yes’m, I shore am. Is it workin’?
“No, but at least it’s making me giggle.”
“Aw, now, that hurts me to my core. Now yur laughin’ at me.”
“I think I’m gonna ignore that and I’m not deaf either.”
He laughs, I laugh, and then he has more customers. While I finish my salad I hear him making nice with the customers, a very friendly guy. He always says, “Thank you, ‘preciate yur biznes” to each and every one. His place has a nice feel to it, too. I’m sure I’ll go back. More importantly, the food was delicious.
When I get up to leave he says, “Thanks for comin’ back.” I’d been there a couple weeks ago for the first time with a friend and he apparently remembered me. That’s always a nice thing to happen. I attribute it to plain ol’ southern hospitality.
“Thanks, bye now.” I wave as I leave.
I’m not sure if this qualified as the assignment but it certainly depicts the dialect I hear all the time ‘round here.
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