It's that time again, passport renewal time. This time in Brisbane Australia. The sun is up and it's beautiful day, I smile while walking to the consulate and the people smile back at me. I walk into the consulate, a very small office.
To be read through Dutch eyes:
- Haauw arg joe sseur?
- Not too bad (translates: really freaking good mate)
- Vie arg ferry biezie, joe must veetabit.
- You're all right (translates: you bloody tosser, I hate waiting)
- Jess, zèr arg toe piepel veeting
- Two? (translates: what's this daft git all about: 5 minutes and I'll be out of here, yay!)
After about 45 minutes. (yes, 45 minutes...)
- Hoez nekst?
- That'd be me! (translates: anybody cuts in line, dies right here, right now)
- Joe vant a niejoe paspoort?
- That's right. (translates: well observed, Sherlock)
- Joe must let make a foto.
- Must let make? (translates: Oh boy, this monkey doesn't speak English)
- Jes, must let make!
After about 20 minutes while waiting for my freaking pictures.
- voed you filin zis formulier?
- okay. (translates: do I have a freaking choice?)
Another 20 minutes later
- sseur?
- Yes? (translates- what the flip-flying-fuck have I been waiting 20 minutes for?)
- zèt vilbie 150$
- 150$ ?! (translates: 150 bucks! you bloodsucking maggot!)
- jes, ent joe vil hève to veet srie wieks.
- Three weeks?! (translates- fuck off mate, get real!)
- I hoop joe hèff a koed deej!
- Thanks (translates- I hope you don't, you bastard)
Needless to say that the Brisbane honorary consult is a old wanker who gets paid too much and who should have retired 130 years ago.
I have to go to Philadephia in a month, so I really hope my passport comes through by then.
No comments:
Post a Comment