Speak Up....

Alas, poor Yorick, I can't hear you.

In the very noisy restaurant with Mrs. Gorgeous, my stunning Israeli friend:

SJG: "It's so loud in here."

Mrs. G: "I know. I'm reading your lips."

SJG: "Everyone has trouble hearing me."

Mrs. G: "So it's not only me? Thank God."

SJG: "I have a soft voice."

Mrs. G: "It's not just that."

SJG: "What is it, then?"

Mrs. G: "It's your accent."

SJG: "My accent? I don't have an accent."

Mrs. G: "Yes, you do."

SJG: "No, I don't."

Mrs. G: "You do."

SJG: "No one has ever told me I have an accent."

Mrs. G: "So I'm the first?"

SJG: "Yes. What kind of accent do I have?"

Mrs G: "I can't tell you, but it's very distinct."

SJG: "Is it a Sherman Oaksian accent?"

Mrs. G: "Yes! That's it."

SJG: "I'm not the one with the accent."

Mrs. G: "What?"

SJG: "I didn't say anything."