Interesting couple of days in the sunny Isle of Man. Jewel of the British Isles, a land with a strong Viking heritage and home to some of the choicest examples of early Christian stone artifacts.
Anyway...
I went to the dentist today. My new dentist is a Polish guy with limited English skills. But he did a great job.
I dropped my mother off at the Airport on Saturday. We went for a bite to eat in the Airport Cafe. Behind the counter were five (5!) Indian gentlemen. Again, English wasn't their primary language.
I went to buy some bread and milk at my local shop (Anagh Coar). I was served by three Indian gentlemen (repetition of the previous English speaking quip).
I had to converse with my bank. I chatted with a very nice lady who didn't really understand what I was saying (go on, guess why). Maybe accurate communication isn't really that important in financial matters?
In fact, I only found one place that was filled with naturally english speaking people...
...you already guessed it. The queue for unemployment benefit.
Political Correctness is an affliction that only white people seem to catch.
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