And Like, the Dish Ran Away with the Spoon

"And the little dog laughed to see such fun
And the dish ran away with the spoon"

"Soliloquizing... Talking Loud and Saying Something that May or May Not Matter to You One Bit" - www.LeethePoet.com

" Americans seem to delight in putting their language victims through a long and agonising death because as they slowly twist the acoustic knife in the ear of the passers-by, they always have a benign toothy smile. I say slowly because although the speech might be rapid, it is interminable and meaningless with its plethora of fillers." In Praise of American Woman


I knew I was back in New York when I woke up on the Qantas plane that was starting its descent over Queens.

A young anorexic woman in a black track suit was standing in the aisle, talking New York style to my husband. By "New York style" I am not referring to the accent, but to the way New Yorkers have of talking, or should I say, soliloquizing? And soliloquizing centre stage at that.

New Yorkers love to talk and hate to listen. Listening, from a New York point of view, means waiting for the other person to draw breath, so that they can 'have their turn', so to speak...

Now my husband has only lived in New York for 18 months or so, but I've been here for ten years and both of us are quite aware of the domestic practices of this town. But this didn't matter to our fellow passenger. She had obviously decided to "enlighten" us.

"We don't HAVE kitchens in Manhattan", she was saying. "Like we order in. We don't NEED any plates or stuff. We order in. Like I have just a bowl and a spoon in my apartment. I use plastic silverware..." At this point my husband laughed and interjected, "plastic silverware!". But his point was lost.

Not one known for his subtlety, he is Mr. Subtle here!

The young woman continued. Her soliloquy had hardly missed a beat. "I use my spoon and bowl for my cereal and that is all. I NEVER use the oven. I am not even sure if I have one. New Yorkers are too busy to cook or to have people in. I use a real glass as it makes me feel good and my spoon isn't plastic. But if I had plates then they'd be plastic. I have a dishwasher but I don't know if it works because I could never fill it. Like I wash my glass and spoon. My idea of cooking is opening a can. I could cook but I don't. Like whose got the time."

And so on and so forth. I was wide awake by now and my mind went into New York mode. I was listening, waiting for her to pause to take a breath. Eventually she did. I was about to say, "I know, I live in Manhattan", but a few weeks in Australia had slowed me down. I missed my chance and she continued. And continued and continued until she was forced to go back to her seat for touch down.

I've been back a few weeks now, and adjusted back into New York life. I don't notice the quirks and everything seems normal now. Not so to a fellow Australian I met recently. She's been here less than three weeks and is staying at the local "Y". It's filled with American students and she feels quite alien.

"The way they talk", she complained, "with 'like' every second word'"

I know, I said. I've written about it but now I don't notice it so much. "It's like well, like that's all they can say, like!" she replied, in all seriousness.

Less than three weeks and she's already acclimating!

Plastic silverware, people saying "like people say 'like', like"..... it's all to much for me.

I'd write more, but like whose got the time.

Kate Juliff
New York
April 2003