Me: All right, then. What’s callorhinchus milii?
Agent of Death: Ah. Dunno. What?
Me: Elephant fish, of course. Let’s try another. Squalus acanthias.
Agent of Death: I don’t know the scientific names of commercial fish species-
Me: I KNEW IT! You’ve been making up these Latin names all along-
Agent of Death: So what is squalus acanthias?
Me: What? Oh yeah. Spiny dogfish. Here we are,you should know this. Colistium nudipinnis.
Agent of Death: Er. Moki?
Me: Good guess, but, sadly, no. It’s turbot.
Agent of Death: What the <expletive deleted>?
Husband: ‘Tur-bow’, hahaha! Say it again!
Me: What? Turbot.
Agent of Death: Hahaha!
Me: What? Turbot. Turbot.
Agent of Death: Tur-bit.
Me: In New Zealand, perhaps. I tell you, the education system here could do with an overhaul. Nice redirection, by the way-
Agent of Death: It’s tur-bit! You nuff.
Me: It’s NOT! Ok, I’m looking it up! (tap tap) dictionary.com. Ok, T-U-R-B-O-T, here we are. (clicks on the MP3/pronunciation link)
Electronic American woman: TUR-BIT
It was a painful reminder of the first time I applied the word ‘masochistic’ in a conversation. I was about twelve, and seized upon the opportunity presented to demonstrate my smarts like a sherbet lemon lollipop.
Unfortunately, since I had only ever read the word, I pronounced it with a hard ‘ch’.
At the time, I thought my audience were just verbally abusing a twelve year old. I suppose it’s comforting to know that some people are just MOCKERS