Zips Up Your Mouth

I know that I have written about my upscale dry cleaners, Zips, before, but there is so much to say. I have previously expressed wonder at the efficiency of the Spanish speaking staff, in dealing with their English speaking clientele. I have wondered how they do it. Could it be the work of their hacienda overseer, the 300 pound Anglo?

Today, I got to Zips as they were opening, and Anglo was my customer service representative. I thought I would get an answer to my question. And I did. The answer is that the credit must lie elsewhere.

I do not know very much about Anglo, except that his medical history is apparent from even a brief encounter. At some time in his past, Anglo had a personalitiectomy. And a very successful one, for every single aspect of his personality was totally obliterated. And with it, his ability to speak English, a language that he must have learned as a child because he betrays no accent whatsoever.

But his vocabulary is limited, and odd. He certainly does attempt to converse with his customers. Each of his conversations appear to run a pattern: a Greeting, a Question, and a Salutation.

1. The Greeting.

He has forgotten words like "hello" or "good morning", and uses instead a simple monosyllabic word: "Next". He speaks without emotion. I respond as flatly as I can: "Thank you, and next to you as well."

2. The Question.

In order to demonstrate his interest in you, he asks a question which I assume is meant to be something like: "And what do you feel like doing today?" A very nice, homey question, don't you think?

Of course, these are not his words. Again, he simplifies. "Starch", he asks. You see that I did not put a ? after his question. This is because his voice does not rise at the end of "starch". It is as if he just hangs the word out there in front of you. But you know it is a question because, when he asks it, he raises the index finger on his left hand about 3/4 of an inch and holds it over his register/computer keyboard, until you answer. If you give him what he considers an appropriate answer, the finger is gently lowered.

When asked "Starch" this morning, I responded: "Yes, it is really a fine day for starch, isn't it?" This did not appear to satisfy him. His finger did not move for a split instance. But then it lowered. I had a hard time reading his face (which hadn't changed a bit since "Next"), but I guess once he thought about my response, it was OK.

3. The Salutation.

This is the one part of his conversation that actually varies. Today, he said: "Twelve ninety-two". I responded "Twelve ninety-two." He repeated "Twelve ninety-two".


As I was coming home, I thought to myself. Maybe I was wrong about the personalitiectomy. And about his Anglo ancestry. Maybe he is an alien, who had a humanectomy. It is possible, but if this is in fact what happened, the operation was not a success.