New York, New York: Language

Is there such a thing as a linguistic chameleon?

I ponder this because I am trying to find a description of this amazing ability that I have to adapt to the specific language inflections and slang of different regions. It all started back in 4th grade when I was sent to a speech therapist to fix a lisp I had. I wasn’t aware that I had a problem with my S’s until the “kind lady” basically told me that if I didn’t work hard and fix my speech impediment then I would be ridiculed and mocked by others for the rest of my life. With this on my shoulders I worked hard to rid myself of the lisp…and just ended up with a nice Southern drawl.

Later, at the age of 12, while on a truck driving trip with my father I realized that not everyone else spoke like me. We were stopped in Boston on the way up to Canada and Peaches (a trucker friend of my dad’s) affectionately called a fellow a “stupid, fucking Yankee.” Thus, I soon realized that Southern people make fun of the way Northerners talk, and vise versa. I also came to the discovery that if people knew that I had a drawl, then they would immediately think of me as an inbred, cousin lover who didn’t own any shoes (things are more dramatic as a kid). So, through the medium of television and movies I worked on other accents so that my Southern drawl would not give me away at the wrong moment.

(What this really accomplished was to give me an immense amount of television and movie knowledge so that I can now insert random movie quotes in certain instances to substitute for meaningful conversation)

This became a habit over the years and I have often found myself adopting accents and slang from whatever I was currently watching and reading. While watching BBC sitcoms a lot in college I found myself speaking British slang without realizing it.

Me: (after missing a ball while playing pool) “Bollocks! All ya gotta do is put the pissin’ ball in the bloody fucking pocket ya stupid swamp donkey!”
Everyone Else: ......

So what does this have to do with my trip to New York, you ask? Well, I’m happy to say that my linguistic chameleon instincts came alive while I was there. I can’t express enough the importance of language when you are visiting somewhere, and most novice travelers overlook this when they do research on the area of intended vacation. Being able to blend in and speak to the New Yorkers in their native tongue helps a traveler to avoid embarrassing cultural faux pas, and to also speed most transactions along.

Waitress: “So what can I get you to drink tonight?”
Inexperienced Traveler: (with Southern drawl) “I’ll have a beer please.”
Waitress: “What was that?”
Traveler: “A beer, please.”
Waitress: “You’re not from around here are you? Where are you from?”

Thus, you have to go into a ten-minute conversation about where you are from and play the “I’ve never heard of there before” game before you can even get a taste of your beer…let alone start dinner. This happens everywhere: buying a tee-shirt, ordering coffee, getting directions, picking up a hooker. Everything takes longer than it should. Yet, my situation was different. I found that after only two days in New York I had perfected the inflections and subtle nuances of the New Yorker language and was speaking like I had lived there all my life. This opened whole new doors and sped things along considerably. Observe.....

Waitress: “What will you have to drink tonight?”
Me: “Fuck.”
Waitress: “Sam Adams coming right up sir.”

Waitress: “Will that be all tonight?”
Me: “Fuck!”
Waitress: “Another beer coming right up, sir.”

Waitress: “Here’s your check sir.”
Me: “FUCK!!!!”
Waitress: “You’re right sir. I’ll check with the manager.” (a few minutes go by) “Sir, I checked with the manager and your meal will be complimentary tonight. In fact, he said to give you this wad of cash in exchange for your company tonight at our restaurant.”
Me: “Fuuuuuck.”
Waitress: “Well, yeah I get off work in a few minutes. Sure I’d like to come have a drink with you.”
Me: “Fuck.”
Waitress: “Do you mind if my model roommate joins us?”
Me: “Fuck?”
Waitress: “Well, if we get drunk enough….”