| Pages in topic: [1 2] > | Off topic: The Little Translator gets it in the neck Thread poster: Mervyn Henderson (X)
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Mervyn Henderson (X) 
Spain
Local time: 11:14
Spanish to English
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The Little Translator 1:
http://www.proz.com/topic/79252
... 2:
http://www.proz.com/topic/79462
... 3:
http://www.proz.com/topic/79736
... 4:
http://www.proz.com/topic/81397
… 5:
http://www.proz.com/topic/81761
…6:
http://www.proz.com/topic/82588
…7:
http://www.proz.com/topic/83354
… 8:
http://www.proz.com/topic/84080
…
The Little Translator had never considered himself very successful with women, but he seemed to be the star attraction that night at The Mound for sure. Standing there blinking around the dimly-lit watering hole, he could see a lot of nudging going on between the women, especially the quartet nearest him. The one he had winked at rather lecherously beckoned him over, while the others looked on.
“My God”, the Little Translator giggled to himself as he slurped back a little more wine, slightly more iffy than the previous Riojas, “it’s true what they say about this new after-shave. It really is for Men who Don’t Have to Try too Hard”.
He walked over to their table. Every one of them had their eyebrows raised. “Hello girls”, said our hero, fluttering his eyelashes a little, and adding a mock bow. “Perhapsh I could invite you all to a drink and a sshimmy around the dansh floor. What d’ya shay?”
The one who had beckoned him over was a pretty cool customer all right. They were all of them dressed up to the nines, and he could see some delicious legs under the table, particularly hers. “Are you lost, perhaps?” she queried, looking him up and down. “New to this neck of the woods?”
“Oh no”, said he, “I’m a Wordtown transhlator. I deal in words, baby. And if I was lost, I think maybe I’ve been found, waddya shay?”
He had expected a laugh, but none came. They were all a bit stony-faced now. Looked like he would have to try a little harder after all.
“Your first time here, is it? Never been in before?” she went on, drawing hugely on her cigarette and expelling the smoke all around him. It reminded the Little Translator of something sexy Mae West or suchlike might have done.
He grinned inanely in response. “Yes, first time, but probably not the lasht. So, would you care for a little wine or shall we trip the light fantashtic for a while over there firsht?”
“You don’t realise where you are, do you?” said one of the others nearer him, who didn’t seem at all friendly now. “This is a, how shall I say, women-only bar, geddit? It says so on the door. Didn’t you see? Men don’t come here. Men aren’t welcome. We don’t like men. We like being without men. You’re a man. Maybe you should consider drinking your wine and leaving.”
The awful truth finally dawned on the Little Translator. No, during his impulsive entrance he hadn’t noticed any sign on the door. He stood there nonplussed for a second or two, his mouth slightly open. Then his features cleared a little, for an idea had just occurred to him:
He leaned over a little to the four of them, but addressing himself more directly to the one who had spoken second. “In that case, maybe one of you could do me a favour and ashk around a bit at the other tables to shee if any of the girlsh are having a night off tonight?”
She stood up immediately, presumably to do his bidding. “Hey”, he thought, “how nice of her” …
…
Being kicked in the balls at close range, particularly with no warning (although there are few such situations where anyone gets a warning), is inordinately painful. Concentrates the mind beautifully. So concentrated was he on the pain, in fact, that he barely remembered the crash as the wine hit the floor, the shouting from the bar, the shrieking laughter when two or three of the women escorted him rather roughly to the door as he gripped his groin in agony.
The Little Translator staggered out of The Mound to a dark alley nearby, but it was a quarter of an hour before he could actually say anything that wasn’t more than a strangled squeal or a sigh or a groan, half an hour before he could get up, and a full hour before he could walk again.
He couldn’t remember very much more – he had stumbled in and out of a few more places, wine and toilet, wine and toilet, and well, inbetween statements and cops and court, the end of the night he had heard about quite a few times now.
“O the shame of it all”, he thought, lying on the sofa in his little flat. “I’ll never amount to anything. I’ll never be a real translator. I’ll never get it together”. He lay back dolefully, thoughts rushing through his head, rushing, colliding with each other as his eyes closed and he was suddenly falling, falling falling into space …
…
“Will you get up? Come on, it’s 8.30. Time to get up, love. You’ve got that job to do today, come on.”
He jerked forward and opened his eyes suddenly to find his wife shaking his shoulder gently. “What? What’s going on? Where’s Brookesduddy? No, it’s too hard, too technical, I can’t do it. God, my balls … Eh? What?”
Paula looked at him in amused surprise. “Brookes-what? Your balls?” She lifted up the sheets on the bed and had a look underneath. “They look just fine to me, Eddie. What are you talking about, love? Bad dream? Well, if you must drink red wine and cheese last thing at night …”
Eddie looked around the bedroom and passed a hand through his hair. God, it had all been a dream, and he had come back. Like Bobby in the shower in “Dallas”. The whole lot – Translations Anytime, Wordtown, Brookesduddy, Fred, Allan Larkin, the terrible night out. All of it.
Plus, yes, he had 5,000 words of technical to do today ...
“But hey, I’m a real live freelance translator”, he thought. “2,500 this morning and the rest this afternoon. Piece of cake. Pushover. But better get on with it.” Sighing, he threw back the covers and made for the bathroom. Another day’s translation in store.
THE END ▲ Collapse
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The end...
Well, now, dear Mervyn, you've got time to create new adventures for new characters.
Muriel
| | | | | surely not the end really | Sep 21, 2007 |
please, please let it not be the end.
| | | | | Goodbye, Little Translator... | Sep 21, 2007 |
Misleading title by the way, it wasn't exactly the neck he got it in!
Anyway thanks Mervyn, for all the entertainment over the last few weeks. It's been great reading.
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Mervyn Henderson (X)
Spain
Local time: 11:14
Spanish to English
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TOPIC STARTER
It sounds more harmless somehow, in the neck.
I had to kill him. It was him or me, believe me.
I told him so, too. "You're brown bread, Little Translator", I said as I tippety-tappetyed away yesterday. "This is the last episode. Exit. Mutis. Out the window. Gone. Out of sight, out of mind".
"But, but, but ..." he stammered pathetically, as usual.
"No buts, friend", I told him sternly. "You were just a summer fling, a piece of translator skirt f... See more It sounds more harmless somehow, in the neck.
I had to kill him. It was him or me, believe me.
I told him so, too. "You're brown bread, Little Translator", I said as I tippety-tappetyed away yesterday. "This is the last episode. Exit. Mutis. Out the window. Gone. Out of sight, out of mind".
"But, but, but ..." he stammered pathetically, as usual.
"No buts, friend", I told him sternly. "You were just a summer fling, a piece of translator skirt found lying around on a beach one day. I made you and I can unmake you. You would never have lasted anyway. You'd have ended up in your little flat with no lecky, no heating, no money, no friends, no human comfort, with just a scabby cat and maybe a bottle of cheap warm vodka between you and the most abject misery and despair."
Anyway, I've translations to do, and he wasn't making me any money, ha.
Thanks again to everyone everywhere for the interest. Maybe I can have another shot some other time on some other subject, who knows?
Mervyn ▲ Collapse
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Thanks, Mervyn. It was a fun ride!
| | | | TonyTK
German to English
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| patyjs
Mexico
Local time: 04:14
Spanish to English
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| Thanks a lot, Mervyn.. | Sep 21, 2007 |
for keeping us all so well entertained these last few weeks.
My favorite parts were the visits to Prof. Brookesduddy.
Take a truly well-earned break, Mervyn, and then come back with more LT adventures.....maybe LT's halloween or Christmas. I can't believe you've put him to rest indefinitely.
All the best to you.
Paty
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| Write a book! | Sep 21, 2007 |
You have plenty of fans at Proz already.
Thanks for the laughs,
Jill
P.S. What did Carlos say?
“Sí hombre, me vas a enseñar tú cómo se pronuncia Rioja, si mi madre es de Logroño.”
[Edited at 2007-09-21 14:49]
| | | | Mervyn Henderson (X)
Spain
Local time: 11:14
Spanish to English
+ ...
TOPIC STARTER
Gillian Scheibelein wrote:
You have plenty of fans at Proz already.
Thanks for the laughs,
Jill
P.S. What did Carlos say?
“Sí hombre, me vas a enseñar tú cómo se pronuncia Rioja, si mi madre es de Logroño.”
[Edited at 2007-09-21 14:49]
Sounds like you need a translator, Gillian, but I've no idea where you'd find one around here ... tee-hee
Roughly, he said, "Sure, you'll teach me how to pronounce Rioja when my mum´s from Logroño" (province of La Rioja, where they make the stuff).
Speaking of which, it's Friday, it's five to five, and time to get the weekend on the go ...
Bye,
Mervyn
| | | | Stéphanie Soudais (X)
France
Local time: 11:14
English to French
Thanks Mervyn, and vivement la prochaine histoire !
Stéphanie
| | | | | Thank you, Mervin! | Sep 21, 2007 |
I wasn't expecting the end
Hopefully we will all "read" from you again, right?
Letty (LT's fan)
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Saskia Steur (X)
Local time: 11:14
English to Dutch
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| Mervin, thanks! | Sep 21, 2007 |
I've really enjoyed the LT, mercy buckets.
Hopefully he will have another dream, one day
Saskia
| | | | Lia Fail (X)
Spain
Local time: 11:14
Spanish to English
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| a bit thanks + lotsa luck:-) | Sep 21, 2007 |
Mervyn
You did something wonderful for us, you wrote a story we enjoyed, that's truly a talent:-) SO sad to see LT's gone, but I was impressed at your efforts and of course you have to work:-) But someday soon, let's hope we'll be taking a novel of yours off the bookshelf:-)
Are you Irish by the way? I am, maybe that's why I couldn't help but relate to the graphic piss-up...I gave up the hard stuff when I twisted the same ankle on the same night in Barceloneta, the firs... See more Mervyn
You did something wonderful for us, you wrote a story we enjoyed, that's truly a talent:-) SO sad to see LT's gone, but I was impressed at your efforts and of course you have to work:-) But someday soon, let's hope we'll be taking a novel of yours off the bookshelf:-)
Are you Irish by the way? I am, maybe that's why I couldn't help but relate to the graphic piss-up...I gave up the hard stuff when I twisted the same ankle on the same night in Barceloneta, the first time was bad but I didn't notice (a bit like LT!) .. the second time I just had to notice as I couldn't walk. I ended up in H del Mar and swore off everything thereafter except wine and beer.:-)
[Edited at 2007-09-21 20:15] ▲ Collapse
| | | | | Thanks so much Mervyn... | Sep 22, 2007 |
It's been such a nice distraction everytime. You're good, keep at it. If not now, then later (we'll be waiting ).
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