I'm a regular Ali Velshi, seems all I can talk about is money, money, money. (It makes the world go round, the world go around, the world go around.)
Anyway, today I paid my municipal taxes. Ah, municipal taxes. A tax-paying event then sends JAW Fan into spasms of anticipatory cheque-writing.
I went to the bank as I had to pay the bill at the counter. I was served by this cute young Latino-looking guy named Hubert or Hector. At the Royal, they are obsessed with calling you by your name.
Which is fine if you have a name that everybody knows how to pronounce. In my case, however, I am constantly bombarded by tellers like Hubert/Hector who says "thank you, Mrs. ...... Twyieeoh" and then with each thing he tells me he has to give it another shot. "Please key your PIN now, Mrs. Taayiwhyo". Poor Hubert/Hector. I think his jaw got stretched.
If only I was married to George, then everybody would just call me Mrs. Clooney, and my life would be so easy.
2 comments:
If you were Mrs Clooney, I'm guessing there would be no queuing to pay your council taxes.....
but as a quebec lady, you wouldn't be MRS CLOONEY--you'd remain MS TEEIIYYOOH, no?
(unless you married young george in alberta--yee-ha!)
Post a Comment