Yet another Grill Story

I haven't really been hitting the grill at work for lunch. Today I made an exception and got a grilled cheese sandwich with ham. I like to blog about the grill line because it's people who don't know each other stuck in one spot for a few minutes to interact. With those interactions the possibilities are limitless for anything from mirth to downright nastiness between humans. I love it. All you need is a few strangers, the same guy who works there every day, and some fried food and the potential is amazing.

Today I went early so as to dodge the line for my brown food excursion into the land of tater tots to avoid the strangers. It's not that I don't like them, I do. They do get in the way though. What with them wanting their brown food too. Have you noticed everything that comes from a fryer or a grill is brown... Keep that in mind.

So I interact with the guy. No he's not "The Dude" that was Mr. Lebowsky and a whole neither story.

The guy happens to be a native Spanish speaker. So is his grill sidekick. They were going on and on in Spanish and I had no idea what they were saying. See I had some Spanish in high school but you know what. Mrs. Chav-ASS (as we used to call her. Yes Chav- ASS and yes to her face.) was from Nebraska and I blame my monolingualness right on her. It had nothing to do with the fact that I didn't study or didn't give a shit because how good could I possibly get learning Spanish from a woman who spoke with a mix of Madrid and Midwest accent. Nope not me... Her fault all the way. I take no blame here. None. Zip. OK so the homework was my fault. I mean she wasn't in my house (I'd thank god if I weren't so fucking atheist) so really the homework was on me. Lecture was all her. Her fault. So I don't know Spanish. I could have said that in one sentence, but I ask you this single question, "Had I asked you in one sentence would you be as annoyed with me as you are now?" I thought not.

So I says to them, the guy and his grill side kick, "2 years of high school Spanish a complete waste of time."

So they switch to English. Very nice of them. I was enjoying thinking about Miss Chav-Ass (well no not really enjoying it because I mean as teachers went she was the antithesis of hot. So Now I gotta try and follow them. I mean they are now explaining it to me and so I have to pay attention. I asked for it. I didn't mean to but I did. So I pony up and try. I tried. All I could gather was they hate their boss. OK. I can relate when I worked in the food industry I hated my boss too. (Now the software industry is another story (are you reading this Philip?) I love my boss in the Software industry... love him) So I do what any American would do. I smile and nod at them while they make my food and rant in English that I know is English but I so can't follow either.

So they speak 2 languages and I speak... None. I'm lost. I think to myself "They know I haven't got a clue even in my own native tongue. nada. (see I was paying attention Ms. chavassssss)"

What would you do? I started humming and then singing. Yes nothing makes me 'get up and sing' but if I'm already up and already without a clue might as well right?

so...

Jeremiah was a bullfrog,
he was good friend of mine.
I never understood a single word he said
but I helped him drink his wine.

He always had some mighty fine wine.
Sing it Joy to the world...all the boys and girls now ,
joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea and joy to you and me.

They went on and on. It was lovely and I complimented the sandwich highly (and it was good.)

So I got my sandwich and all was well. I left happy they left happy. Well they didn't leave and they were still bitching about their boss so happy might be the wrong word.

See? The possibilities of fried food are endless...