The Bio-Stutterer

So, here is a humorous story from last Friday.


As I had mentioned before, I had a Biology lecture and lab after work on Friday. Successfully making me miss, in my mind, the first game of the playoffs with the Red Sox vs. the Yankees. The lecture was excruciating, and the lab wasn't any better. By the end of it, it was 10 p.m. and it was the bottom of the 7th inning.

This guy in front of me hadn't talked yet in my Biology class, yet we've had to work together before in the labs. So, I just figured he had a chip on his shoulder because he seemed intelligent enough.

He's your average white guy, with the bleached blond hair with brown roots pulled back into a hair elastic. Glasses, and he's routinely wearing hospital scrubs.

So, last Fridays class I ask him, "Hey man, what's your name again?" He turns to me and says, "De-de-d-d-Declum." Oh shat, here I am thinking this guy thinks he's to good for everyone, when in reality he has a stuttering problem.

"Did you say Declum?", I asked back. "Ye-yeah, Dec-de-d-Declum.", he repeats. In my mind I'm thinking YIKES! I just dug my own grave here, so I better be the better man and keep asking some questions. Even though you have the fear of God in you that he might have trouble answering the questions, and I don't want to embarrass him.

So I asked him where he was from locally, what he did, and the like? He managed to get through the questions, but remember, this in front of a classroom audience. So, there were a few uncomfortable moments throughout the question and answer session.

But I was glad I did it and I think he was too, as I found out he works in the same hospital as me and already works in the field I want to work in. I asked him if he liked the Red Sox, and he said yeah.

So class comes to an end and Declum turns to me and says, "H-he-hey, it's the bottom of th-th-th-the seventh." So I respond, "Nice, I've got to get out of here and head home quick if I'm going to catch any of the game!"

Declum turns to me and says, "Hey, you wh-wha-wanna go to th-the Nah-Nines and catch the rest of it?" I have to admit that at first, I was a little unsure if I could handle trying to decipher what he was saying for the rest of the night. I wasn't even really sure if I heard the question correctly.

"You want to go the Nines?", I asked if he asked. "Yeah." Declum responded. After another second of thought I thought screw it, and said alright.

We get to the Nines and we get a beer, and I begin to go on about all the happenings in my life. He just sits and laughs, and mostly listens. Only giving short yeah's, and no's along the way. It was really pleasant actually. I'm usually the listener when it comes to conversations, so it was nice to have it the other way around. It was interestingly fun, and then came the hum dinger.

We were nearly at the bottom of our 24 oz. beers when I ask Declum, "Where are you from originally?"

"Ireland, I came over when I was four." Declum said. I noticed he didn't stutter, so I kept asking questions. The only problem, with the last swill of his beer he talked the rest of the night with a thick Irish brogue and absolutely no stutter.

It was absolutely amazing. The funniest part was that for the rest of the evening, I had no idea what the hell he was saying. I understood him better when he talked in stuttered clear English, than in thick Irish un-stuttered brogue. So, we parted ways and said our goodbyes at the end of the night, and that really just blew my mind.

Stuttered English, or perfect uncomprehendable Irish brouge.