"Where are you from?" I ask, as we are waiting for my computer to reboot.
M: "People are always disappointed when I tell them."
Me: "I won't be."
M: "Okay then, Seattle."
Me: "No, I mean originally."
M: "Yes, I'm originally from Seattle. I just started talking like this about three months ago. My American accent didn't fit me."
I understand people being trapped in the wrong body. I can only imagine how difficult that must be. But this is the first I've heard of anyone being trapped in the wrong accent.
Morrigan's real name is Jessica but she goes my her middle name; she tells me that this preceded her accent change and is unrelated. She continues.
"Yes, I started taking voice lessons a few months ago from coaches who help actors develop foreign accents."
"Don't your friends think this is a little pretentious?" I ask. (I try to picture my friends' reactions if all of a sudden I showed up for dinner with a French accent replacing my mutated Boston one.).
"I don't care what my friends think."
"What about your family?"
I imagine going home for Thanksgiving with a British accent. My nephews would be unrelenting in their ridicule, and really, who could blame them?
"I don't speak to my family," Morrigan tells me.
Though I'd like to continue this conversation, my computer is now back on, and we've switched to the far less interesting topic of adware.
Addendum:
So I'm telling this story to M, when she reminds me of something I'd forgotten. When we were both working at Gillette, there was a woman who worked with us named Carol Ann Moriarty (or something like that). One day, the name outside her office read Carol Ann Thompson. M said to someone, "Hey, I didn't know Carol left." The response was, "Oh no, Carol didn't leave. She legally changed her last name so that her initials could be CAT." Her small cubicle was filled with cat posters and calendars.
Hard to believe I forgot this story.
So I'm telling this story to M, when she reminds me of something I'd forgotten. When we were both working at Gillette, there was a woman who worked with us named Carol Ann Moriarty (or something like that). One day, the name outside her office read Carol Ann Thompson. M said to someone, "Hey, I didn't know Carol left." The response was, "Oh no, Carol didn't leave. She legally changed her last name so that her initials could be CAT." Her small cubicle was filled with cat posters and calendars.
Hard to believe I forgot this story.
No comments:
Post a Comment