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Thursday, October 27, 2005 Oh yes, I think you're right there... ZORT! Ahhhh yes. Those are the words that have welcomed me to each day for the past few weeks as I have commenced my new role. Each and every day I don my crown and become the King of Public Transport as I swan gracefully, and according to the timetable, from bus to train to tram. I really am a Met-link-rosexual when I come to think about it. I have my train timetable, my bus timetable, which incidentally hasn't ever been wrong or let me down and it's from October 2002, and use them quite knowingly to traverse Melbourne's dizzying array of public transport! Those words of "Oh yes, I think you're right there... ZORT!" are uttered, quite literally, from a delightful, smiling, happy woman who I think may have Tourette Syndrome. You see, we catch the same bus. We arrive at our bus stop at approximately 6:35am every morning to get the bus. One day several months ago, in those wet and cold Winter days, I approached the bus stop and did not know that this woman was already at the bus stop as she was sitting under the bus shelter and was completely obscured by the surrounding structure. I stood just next to the bus stop and waited, presumably under an umbrella or warm in my coat, safe, content and happy with the world and my lot in life. Out of nowhere Ms. Tourette shouted something at me and I, literally, jumped, swore and said more out of shock than anything "You really scared me! You need to announce yourself before shouting at people!". This didn't seem to faze her and she continued to pace from me to the very edge of the footpath and the kerb, muttering and uttering whatever sentence or phrase she had in her head at that time. Recently, I think she's warmed to me and we sort of regard each other in a pleasant, mostly non-verbal acknowledgement of each other's existence. I occasionally say "Good morning!" or "Looks like another beautiful day!" or "The weather's quite bad today, isn't it?" to which I receive the reply (to all three of my greetings): "Oh yes, I think you're right there... ZORT!" When I first encountered this lady several years ago on a random bus-trip, I could not help but laugh as she repeated herself ad infinitum to unawares secondary schools traveling home (Mark, can attest to this...). Since then I have matured somewhat I believe, but every now and then, I cannot help but get the giggles or even laugh uncontrollably at her utterances. You see, the word Zort is, to the best of my knowledge, not a word. It is, however, the closest way of representing the sound that she makes after almost every sentence. To me, this "zort" is reminiscent of Dobby the house-elf's self-punishment for being a bad house-elf. It seems to me as though "zort" is trying to control or prevent the occurrence of the next sentence leaving the lady's lips. You see, people react to the lady quite differently in different circumstances. With each morning's request of "Daily Zone 3, Concession, THANK YOU!", each bus driver responds differently. One told her to outright shut up (with those words, quite crossly), another said "please control yourself and settle down", while others who are perhaps scared and/or unsure of what to do merely hand over the ticket, gratefully accept the fare and return the change to her. My brother has just read the last sentence over my shoulder and quite uncannily, yet correctly, stated the lady's words in precise detail and clarity: THANK YOU! I have just remembered an instance whereby "the Zort lady" was discussing the weather with me (in conversational terms, we're stuck at the weather stage, you see...) and she eloquently, quite pleasantly and very slowly said to me: "Lucky... I... brought... my... raincoat... because... it's... raining...". It was as though she thought I had never encountered the English language before and was teaching me my first sentence. When I said something along the lines of "Oh yes, that is lucky!", I would receive a reply of "Oh yes, that is lucky!" as if I had not said anything at all!! This is frequent. This is when I get surprised and don't know what to do but smile, nod and occasionally laugh if the sentence that she has said back to me is changed in context due to the fact that it is her, and not me, who is speaking it. To cap off my anecdote about the Zort lady, today I happened to catch the bus not only to work with her, but also on the return journey from work to home. A Vietnamese lady had unfortunately bought only a Zone 1 and 2 ticket, meaning she could not board the bus as it is in Zone 3. The bus driver explained the situation but the Vietnamese lady's English was not very strong and was asking a friend/relative what he meant by all of this. In the end the lady bought the required ticket, but not before my smiling, pleasant friend with Tourette Syndrome interjected quite suddenly that "She doesn't want the ticket!" and said this with a flick of her wrist as though that would make everything change, as if by magic. This was repeated about four times before she ceased the sentence. It was quite a loud couple of minutes to say the least, with the tonal and glottal sounds of Vietnamese jarring with the hoarse, loud and cracked voice of my friend, the lady who repeats words and sentences. --- Oh, and in answer to Erica's question about Speed Dating, when asked "So what do you do?", I would probably say something along the lines of "I try and be the best person I can be. Every day."posted by AJ | 9:09 PM | | ||
