The last time I've phoned some place, was when I've phoned Tim Horton's, because I've left my bank card, there. I hung up, in tears, the first time, and I talked to myself, about how easy it would be, for me to move to London, England, in a heartbeat. My voice is better suited for East London, than for Southern British Columbia. I've phoned, 10 minutes later, and asked that she not expect me to sound like her, at any time during the call, and that she tried her best, to understand me.
I'm not losing my accent. I just hate peppy young girls, who expect everybody to speak with the ABC or the CBC accent.
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The Family Enigma