What's In A Name ©

The heat wave continues and what do I not want to do when it’s this hot?

Go outside but it’s what I have to do now that my father doesn’t drive.

That’s a whole other post or posts.

Today it was to take him to the bank so he can get some international money orders in euros.

You would think it would be a simple task.

Euros instead of dollars but nothing is simple.

We even have an account with only euros in it but even that didn’t help.

The Asian girls was doing her best but she said she had only done one once before and didn’t remember how?

I should have left right then but my father needed it done so I stood there while three tellers now gathered in a circle to try and figure out how to do it.

An hour later, she comes up to me all smiles and hands me the cheque.

I look down at them and ask her why it costs 380 euros for make a money order for 300 EUROS.

She said it was dollars.

I pointed out to her that she was taking it out of a euro account not a regular one.

She stood there with a blank look on her face then ran off to find the two other tellers to start the process again but this time it was worse.

Now they had to figure out how to cancel the first two money orders before they could draw up new ones.

Now the three Asian girls were some language I didn’t understand

When my parents first opened their account there it was mostly European immigrants but over the last thirty years China town has crept in and it’s part of it now.

We have no problems with that in fact we never noticed or cared about it until I wanted to know what the fuck they were talking about.

It took two fucken hours to get two money orders.

I stood there for two hours watching people walk by do their business and go.

There was one though.

She came in and asked to have a 200 euro note broken down into ten twenties.

The teller had to go find a manual the size of one of those encyclopedia dictionaries to see how to do it.

I knew I was fucked right there.

In the end and about half an hour of this woman’s time she tells her she has to go to one of those money exchange places because the bank doesn’t have any euros on hand and would have to order them.

You know, if you are a world wide bank then you should have some amount of currency from the most popular countries.

I mean, the euro is used as currency in almost half the world.

With the money orders in hand and checked to make sure no more screw ups had happened I passed them to my father then looked to the teller’s name tag to thank her personally and my brain froze.

As I looked at her name my brain was working at high speed trying to interpret the information and come out with a respectful response….but I couldn’t find one.

As a kid kids made fun of my name because they couldn’t say it and as hurtful as I remember that being at the time, I am happy I didn’t have her name.

I am sure it is a proud name from where her family comes from but I think it looses a lot of that in the translation here.

I am sure that if her parents knew forehand that they were moving here and with the knowledge of our language they may have chosen another name for their lovely daughter.

So I took her first name and tried different variations to try and make it properly palatable.

There was nothing I could do with the last name, it was only two letters, Ho.

The first name was a problem, Kunt.

How do you say thank you.

Like I am thank you john, or thank you Mary, or thank you Betty.

How does thank you Kunt work in the bank.

Ho’s no better.

Thank you Ho.

I tried giving the “u” a long sound and got “Koooont”.

Made me sound like an old horny owl.

She hung her hand out to be shaken and once more my eyes went to her nametag and I was wishing she had bigger tits to look at instead of the tag.

I took her hand and thanked her the best I can.

“Thank you Miss Ho”

“Who, it’s pronounced Who”

Kunt

Have a nice day

Walker