I’ve decided the Australian dialect is the quintessential Valley Girl speak. They shorten all their words and the ones they do finish they end on a higher pitch. Australians have yet to find a word they can’t just shorten and put a ‘Y’ at the end. Breakfast is breaky; expiration is expiry, expensive is exy and the list could go on forever.
The first couple of weeks I spent most of my day behind a cash register wondering what the hell was just said. Instead of saying thank you after a transaction there would be a good on ya, cheers, thanks mate, beauty, or my favorite ta. Yup, ta, the shortest and most common way possible to say thank you in Oz.
I like to think of myself as seasoned and having figured everything out by now but that’s far from the truth. Yesterday a woman came in asking for rubbers and I gave her condoms. Turns out rubbers are erasers. Before that it was an old man wanting thongs. No, not the sexy panties but flip flops. I think I might be hopeless. They have the luxury of Hollywood and can pretty much understand everything I say. I have Mad Max and Crocadile Dundee, the Hollywood version of Oz. Yeah, I’m screwed but that’s half the fun.