Lunch lady
There's a small deli where I get my lunch every day and the woman who runs it is Russian. Sometimes we have conversations in Russian in front of the other customers, which makes me mildly uncomfortable because I don't want them to think that I'm talking about them.
Recently, I became concerned that she is dying of cancer and I was thinking of the best way to let her know that I'm thinking of her without spelling everything out. I thought that she had a terminal diagnosis because every time I'd ask about her well being with a friendly "kak dela?" she'd say "don't ask" and look very morose.
So this week, after my "kak dela" and her "don't ask" I followed up with a "who knows what will happen" and she unburdened herself and told me that she doesn't like the bra that she bought for her daughter's wedding because it's doing nothing for her dress. So, it's a wedding and not cancer. Which is wonderful news.
This is why people dance at weddings.
Recently, I became concerned that she is dying of cancer and I was thinking of the best way to let her know that I'm thinking of her without spelling everything out. I thought that she had a terminal diagnosis because every time I'd ask about her well being with a friendly "kak dela?" she'd say "don't ask" and look very morose.
So this week, after my "kak dela" and her "don't ask" I followed up with a "who knows what will happen" and she unburdened herself and told me that she doesn't like the bra that she bought for her daughter's wedding because it's doing nothing for her dress. So, it's a wedding and not cancer. Which is wonderful news.
This is why people dance at weddings.
Labels: Everyone is insane
posted by Marinka at
1:29 PM
29 Comments:
Obviously you've never attended a wedding in an ill-fitting bra.
It's pretty fucking tragic.
xoxo, SG
Now, see, I'd be all over talking about the other people without them being able to understand it. I mean, that guy in the corner with the pastrami hanging off his mustache? Please.
I'm glad it's a foundation garment issue and not cancer. Because if she died wearing an ill-fitting bra, heaven knows WHERE all that blood would go...
I love it when I find someone I can speak French with. Every now again I'll look at a stranger and let them think I'm talking about them.
They threw me out of NYC for being evil.
"Kak dela;" sounds cool. Would love to hear it spoken.
You need to coach her in the ways of bras, obviously.
You're so thoughtful!
I used to think I spoke English until I married my British hubby.
I now realize I speak American.
And a poorly fitted bra is a crime...seriously.
Oh Marinka, I laughed out loud at this.
Mostly because i MYSELF have a bra that is NOT WORKING properly. And it is NOT the nursing bra.
Well, since I have NO chest, I can not comment on the ill fitting bra issue:(
"kak dela" - dela is a funeral firm here, and kak is obviously poop. To me, is sounds like you asked her who pooped on her funeral or something.
Glad she was only having a fashion illness.♠
that reminds me: find bra.
Nice ending. A bra...
Hey Shallow Gal: It's not as tragic as attending a Southern Baptist wedding. No dancing and no drinking - you can't even get drunk enough to not feel your ill-fitting bra!
I bought 3 very cheap bras today with the thought that if they didn't fit properly, I hadn't wasted much money. I was lucky. Oh the blessing of having small boobs.
Now I just have to remember to take the air-bags out of the bras before washing...
I always wish I could speak another language (I know, I know - learn one already! I know!) so I COULD talk about people without them knowing it.
And, ill-fitting bras are about just about the worst. At a wedding? That is why people drink!
I - too - shall be in the "don't ask" camp when my daughters wed.
Mostly because of the "Who's paying?" aspect. . .
And how do you say "Who's paying" in Russian????
I love that the appropriate response to help her open up to you is a completely cryptic line that sounds like it came out of a nineteenth-century novel. "Who knows what will happen..." It's like the opening of a tragedy.
You crazy Russians. It's like you're from another country or something.
If I ever talk about you, I will totally do it in English and not Russian.
But this doesn't explain the whole hava nagila concept. Being held up on the chair by a group of drunk guys makes me all a-scared.
Obviously, this woman has never been to one of my family weddings...after a few drinks we don't only toss off our ill-fitting shoes..we toss off any ill-fitting bras and under-garmets!
What's a bra?
I can envision this conversation.
Marinka: How are things?
Shopkeeper: Don't ask.
Marinka: Who knows what will happen?
Shopkeeper: My daughter WAS getting married. She's not any more after she read your blog post about Russian food. Now my Nastenka will be single FOREVER. Ti sglazila eyo (You gave her the evil eye, therefore cursing her life forever.)
Marinka: Oh. Does this mean I can't get the pastrami on rye here anymore?
I had to stop and think for a while about which woule seem worse for me to have to endure; having cancer or being stuck with an ill-fitting bra.
Really, the choice isn't so clear.
I do think there is some kind of illness that overcomes us, though, when we're at weddings and discover we've hit the floor to do the Chicken Dance.
Of course, that mysterious illness could just as easily be diagnosed as drunkeness in some cases.
I actually know how to pronounce kak-dela.
After you ask me how I am, I can tell you, in Russian.
Uh, ya, it's cuz my sister majored in Eastern Europeon Studies. Poch-a-moo? I have no idea.
I love that you went straight to cancer. True Marinka style. ♥
And, why people cry at weddings....
my mother doesn't work in a deli
I'm sure she was relieved to get that off her chest.
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