Life: Idiotropic

My phone has been ringing a lot lately. 

Ringring ringring.

       "Hello?"
       "Buenas ___, blah blah blah blah blah"

This is where I tell them they have the wrong number, keep talking in English until they hang up, or say, "I'm sorry, I don't speak Spanish.  Good bye."

Yes, I do feel somewhat guilty about this.  Somewhat.  Because I do speak Spanish decently and have been able to communicate successfully on the phone several times when it's been important.  But, after the 20ish calls from the new gym that opened in town that I worked really hard to get through as their speaking sped up to auctioneer speeds, I am really just sort of done with telemarketing calls in Spanish. 

       "Por favor, no hablo espanol bien.  Despacio, por favor."
      
And they s t a r t    o u t   s l o w l y   a n d   t h e n   it  speeds up and pretty soon they are speaking faster and faster and faster... and it's so fast that I think I have hummingbirds in my ear.

        "Como?  Repitalo, por favor?" 

I'm sorry... after 15 minutes of this, I am tired.  This isn't a good time.  Could you please call back another day?  And they do.  Really, 20ish calls.  I did this.  And I tried.  And I eventually got it and got myself an appointment to go check out the new gym that I couldn't find and decided just to not go because I just don't have that kind of time.

I'm only going to live here another 18+ months or so and there is really very little reason for me to stress my little brain cells trying to have any sort of coherant conversation over the phone with their Road Runner paced Spanish with thick Valencian undertones.  Nope.  That's my justification.  Guilt begone.


So why do I still feel that pang?  Ugh.  Fine.   May be I should start answering in German.  ;)