It’s no shocker that Americans are suckers for foreign accents.This American in particular, is set to swoon by a Scottish brogue. I usually have no idea what they’re saying but they sound so pretty while saying it. I sometimes wonder if an American accent has the same effect but it’s hard to imagine a girl getting googly over a Midwestern man’s accent. Say cheese steak again. I just can’t picture that scenario An American man can say “I’ve just pissed in the toilet” and a girl will contort her face and reach for her hand sanitizer. But if a Scotsman declares “I’ve just had a wee piss on the cludgie”, the reaction might be-keep talking.
Back in the mid nineties, my history buff father spent a few years tracing our lineage (before the internet). He was adopted, so it was a defining moment in his life. Just a year before Braveheart was released, we discovered that our lines traced back to William Wallace, and the Dove clan of Scotland as well as Welsh ancestry (French and Cherokee Indian on my Mother’s side) .Before we knew it, my dad’s prized Grizzly rug from his Alaskan hunt was replaced with a tartan that hung over our living room couch. The man, who was only equipped with a stop and go button, also bought a set of bagpipes. Did you know that there’s no volume control on bagpipes? I do.
All of these peculiarities should have turned me off of the whole Scottish thing but they only fed the fire-the fire that I dreamed would be stoked by a burly Scot with calloused hands.
I’m not even discriminating when it comes to who’s delivering the lines. It can be Sean Connery in his prime or old as hell, Comedian Billy Connolly (actually still sexy in my book) or Scrooge McDuck! That accent just makes my knees a little weak.
Last week I was face to face with an actual Scot (as I live and breathe). While working a catering event at the science museum. my beverage line was full of the typical nerdy science types, and no one in particular stood out as I scanned the crowd. They were all just scoops of vanilla pudding on top of other scoops of vanilla pudding. I was organizing my money the way I like it (all bills facing up and facing the same direction) when the next customer in line placed his order. I would not be able to pick this guy out of a line-up but upon hearing his Scottish accent, the tops of my ears got hot and I became flustered. He said “cheers” when all ten of my thumbs accepted his card, “cheers” when my mitts handed it back and “cheers” again, when my nervous Hulk fists handed him his drink.
I’m a silly girl but that’s my thing…at least one of my things. What’s your thing?