"I can't understand her accent." (circa 1996)

I was once asked to get some refreshment for a service project. So, right after I got off work, I went to the bakery at the basement of the downtown Salt Lake ZCMI. I took a number and stood in line to wait for my turn. When my number was called, a man of Indian/Pakistani descent served me. After I asked him for “two dozen assorted donuts”, he grabbed two wax paper bags and handed me two donuts. Of course, as with every occasion when you are misunderstood, I repeated my request slower and louder. “Two do-zen as-sort-ed do-nuts!” I yelled out. Baffled, he looked at me and again offered me the two donuts, “Yes, yes, here it is. Two donuts.” “No, no, no! Two do-zen as-sort-ed do-nuts!!!” I repeated even slower and louder. The other customers started to stare at the commotion. Confused, my server turned to his co-worker and said, “What is she saying? I can’t understand her accent.” I have an accent! I have an accent! This man is talking like Abu … and I’m the one with the accent? His co-worker turned to him and replied, “She wants 24 different donuts.” Understanding dawned on his face. “Well, why does she not say so in the first place? That, I understand.”

Imagine that … working in a bakery and he doesn’t understand the word “dozen”. I walked away with my two dozen assorted donuts and the new found knowledge that I have an accent some people can’t understand.