La mujer es muy estupida.

I'm taking a Spanish Class.

I've always wanted to learn a second language, and I have absolutely nothing going on in my life right now, so I determined this would be as good a time as any to start. I found a Beginner's Conversational Spanish class that was starting soon, and I weaseled my employer into paying for it for me. Perfecto!

I've been taking the class about eight weeks now. I know several useful phrases (Cual is su direcion?), about 20 verbs that will eventually come in handy, and several not so useful phrases about babies crying and men eating apples.

The point of all this, from my employer's perspective, is to have someone in the office who can actually communicate with our ever-expanding Hispanic customer base.

The point of all this, from my perspective, is to know a real-life secret code. Excellente!

So we have a new girl at work. She's answering and transferring all the phone calls that come into the office. She has a particularly perky voice, but hasn't quite got the hang of in-office call-transfer etiquette.

For example, when transferring a fairly unusual type of call to a person who doesn't usually receive unusual-type calls, 'tis customary to warn the intended recipient that said call is coming.

Case in point: I received a (surprise!) transferred call a few mornings ago with a Spanish-speaking customer on the other end. He rattled off a very fast very-espanol-filled explanation of his situation, during which I deduced that he had a question regarding something involving the word "the" several times.

After the initial panic (apparently New Girl didn't know that I was only 2 months in to speaking my new language), I girded up my Spanish prowess and started in slowly.

Hola, Senor.

Pause.

Esotoy aprendiendo espanol. (I am learning Spanish.)

Therefore.

Habla despacio, por favor. (Please, I beg of you, slow it the frick down.)

Apparently, he understood because he started in again even faster than before.

After another looong explanation that sounded so convoluted I doubt I would have even been able to understand it in English, I answered in slow, broken Spanish, "Would you like to pay your bill?"

Pause.

I tried to salvage my dignity. Lo siento, mi espanol es muy mal.

I'm dually talented because meanwhile I was thinking, "Curse you, New Girl! A plague on both your houses!"

I racked my brain for something, anything that could make this slow and painful death come a little faster.

Alas! I remembered that we use can our customer's phone numbers to access their accounts and, sure enough, I know how to ask what someone's telephone number is in Spanish. Suddenly I felt good. My confidence was restored.

With fresh spanish gusto I delievered the deadly blow. Cuando es su numero del telefono?

Loose translation: When is your telephone number?

Score one for Team Idiot.

Surpisingly, the man did not laugh. Instead, he gave me his phone number and then asked, quite politly and in quite in my native tongue, "Would it be better if we spoke in English?"