Van de Merwe’s Revenge Or; Yo Quiero Sharitos!


Kid tested, Sharito approved.

 

“Does this look like a hamburger shop?” ~Nigerian meat vendor to Wikus, District 9

OK, I admit…I’ve been trying to get a little *too* serious with these entries. Call it a reflection of real life; the day-to-day struggles that go with being an Aspie along with just trying to get through another day without having to sell body parts for money. So, as the above picture suggests, I decided it was time for a little “playtime.”

A little introduction may be necessary to understand the story I’m about to tell. Some key facts to know about me, first of all:

* I love accents. I love trying on accents the way some people enjoy collecting handbags or Hallmark ornaments or hats. If I hear a new accent, I just have to try it. Even if I butcher it, I can improve with time. It may be a useless talent…but it’s MY talent.

* Hand in hand with that trait is my love of, for lack of a better work, Punk’ing random strangers with accents. Once, on an airplane bound for LA, I claimed to be a Scottish scion of a wealthy importer-exporter family. I have no idea why I chose this (or why I didn’t think to call the fictitious firm “MacVandelay Industries,”) but the lady next to me ate it up like I’d given her a rib eye steak instead of an airline bag of peanuts. She never doubted me for a second, and I never told her I was actually American.

* Some people get “the jazz” from jumping out of airplanes or racing fast cars or, God forbid, doing drugs. I get the jazz out of pretending to be someone I’m not. I have no idea why, and I also have no idea why I never became an actress. Wait…that’s because I’m too tall and too big and too autistic. Never mind.

Anyway, now that you, dear reader, know these things about me, I’ll tell you a random little story from my random little life. Sit back, relax and enjoy.

First of all, you may ask yourself what the hell a “Sharito” is. Turns out it’s some guy’s mispronunciation of “Sharlto.” From a Vanity Fair interview:

What’s the best pronunciation of your name that you’ve gotten so far in the states? 

The strangest is probably ‘Sharito.’ I think they must have misread the ‘l’ as an ‘i’ or something. That’s what I think.

I absolutely loved this. I thought it sounded exactly like a new product at Taco Bell. An idea started kicking around in my head, and I was grinning just like the Grinch.

I happen to be a (semi-active) Taco Bell junkie. I also happen to love Wikus van de Merwe’s crazy Afrikaans accent from District 9. So, on a whim, I entered an unsuspecting ‘Bell in an unspecified location. The following occurred. Warning: if you’re drinking anything carbonated, you may want to spit it out or stop drinking right now.

Me (speaking in Wikus accent): Looks like you have some new menu items, eh?

Bored Taco Bell Girl (snapping gum): Can I help you?

Me: I had some of those Gorditas last time. Those are so lekker.

BTBG (looking like she wants to lynch me): You need a sec?

Me: No, no, I think I know what I want. I’m hungry for a Sharito combo.

(A moment of silence passes)

BTBG: You mean a Gordita or a Chalupa?

Me: I mean a Sharito. I heard all about them in your new television ad campaign.

BTBG: You might have us confused with, y’know, Moe’s or something?

Me: Are you calling me daft?

BTBG (worried): No, ma’am, just asking…

Me: Good. I’d like a Sharito with beef, or a prawn one if that’s not available…

BTBG: I ain’t never heard of a Sharito. Where’d you hear about it again?

Me: I ordered one just the other day at another Taco Bell. It was very good, especially with the Fire sauce.

BTBG: Can I help the lady behind you if you’re still deciding?

Me: I have decided. I want a Sharito right now. Or do I have to call your manager?

BTBG: Store manager’s not here. Um, maybe it was like, a regional thing?

Me: I ordered it in this area. Are you just out of Sharitos?

BTBG: No, it’s nothin’ like that. I just never *heard* of a Sharito…

Me: I’ll be calling your manager in the morning. Can I have a Gordita combo instead?

BTBG (relieved): OK…that’s gonna be $4.57…

I couldn’t tell you why exactly I did this. Call it stress relief, or the performer in me wanting to get out, or Aspie imagination run amuck. It happens sometimes. All I know is, that’s the best $4.57 I’ve spent in a long, long while.

Who knows what might be next? A nun who speaks only in blank verse? A Russian mafia associate? Maybe even a Swahili-speaking Rabbi?

When you’ve still got your imagination, you’ve still got *something.* In this crazy world, *something* means a lot.

 

 

 

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~ by Howlin' Mad Heather on October 11, 2010.

2 Responses to “Van de Merwe’s Revenge Or; Yo Quiero Sharitos!”

  1. Hey, muchacha! I really like this blog of yours- you offer an interesting outlook on life and you have such a great way with words! I quite enjoyed this particular entry, just because I’m quite the D9 and ‘Sharito’ fan haha. 😀 I’ve heard a lot of people butcher the poor guy’s name, but that’s a new one!
    Your dialouge w/ the Taco Bell dude was hilarious!! If only more people channeled their inner Wikus. I should ask for a Sharito the next time I go haha. xD Great job!!
    ~Capt. Hilts.

  2. Man, oh man – put the two of us in the same room together and there’s gonna be TROUBLE! 😀

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