Sunday, November 28, 2010


The desk I’m using while I’m working in Hong Kong is one of many in a land of half-height cubicles allowing you to see and hear everything that’s happening around you.  Two desks down is a boy named Bruce from Australia.  I’ve been resisting any Finding Nemo shark jokes, but it’s been hard.  Today, he was on a call discussing something about the aquarium (see! It’s too easy) they’re installing and he was requesting new plants for a section of the tank — of which he needed thirteen.

As the conversation went on, he must have said the word thirteen a dozen times.  I grinned the first time he said it and then progressively smiled bigger and bigger until I was almost giggling.  You see, when I lived in Australia my friend Rita and I were very fond of our new Aussie friend Luke.  For many, many reasons but one of them was hearing him say the number thirteen.  We were complete suckers for the accent and used to come home drunk and tackle Luke begging him to say it just one more time.  Even years later, Rita’s told him that if he ever calls and gets her voicemail, to just say thirteen and hang up.

It was a great few minutes of my day.  Hearing the word, but also flashing back to so many good memories of Newcastle, AUS.

No comments:

Post a Comment