No one ever believes me when I say I’m from Boston. Why? Because, they say, I don’t have the accent. So, then the story goes…I actually grew up in Central MA, then went to school in RI, where I worked to avoid picking up ‘that’ accent. Only those of you that lived there yourselves can appreciate the specialness of a RI accent. And at school I at least learned how to understand the Boston accent (to a degree anyway, thanks Mary Anne). I’ll never forget my first phone call with me new roommate. I didn’t understand a word she said except “can’twaittomeetyainseptemba.” I pursposely leave the spaces out here for the added effect of how freakin’ fast MAB talks!
I also like to tell them the story about a different college classmate’s accent. She was from Attleboro I think, somewhere on the border of MA and RI. Well, put the accents together and this girl sounded like an imbecil whie giving a presentation one day. I reminded myself that I was soon going, hopefully, in to the corporate world and I could not sound like an auctioneer in Brooklyn that just sucked helium and has his tongue cut out. I don’t even know if that describes it well enough…
Yesterday two women came in and we got on the accent subject. One said I used to know this guy that said he was from a town called “Have’rull”. I said, sure, I know Have’rull and quickly thought of Jennie rocking her new baby Cecily. The woman then said, “Well, I went there one day and realized he was actually from Haverhill (pronounced Haver Hill).” My response, “Nah, it’s definitely Have’rull.”
And then I did have to admit that after a few cervezas you can definitely tell that I’m a Masshole.
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