The Fresh Prince of Saucy Minx

The Boss : “Who would I get a rate from Bel Air to Minx with?”

Here’s me: “What??”

“From Bel Air to Minx”

Here’s me: “Where? to Where?!?”

“Bel Air-ez.”

Here’s me: “Bel Air, like in the Fresh Prince, or are you thinking Buenos Aires, as in Argentina?"

“Belairuss”.

Here’s me: “OK. Belarus. BellaROOS. Belarus to where?”

“Minx”

Here’s me: “You mean Minsk??”

“Yeah, Minsk”

Here’s me: “Minsk is in Belarus!”.

“No, Dormagen?”

At some points, such limited understanding as I thought I had breaks down completely, and all I can really do is stare dead ahead and hold my breath until the vein in my head stops throbbing.

Here’s me: “Please. Start again. In full.”

“Who would I get a rate from Dormagen, Germany, to Minsk, Belarus with?”

Here’s me: “OK, ok. Dormagen to Minsk, gotcha. A rate for what?”

We are making progress.

“A schedule"

No we are not.

Here's me: "You... ah... you want a rate for schedule? Eh..."

"No, a schedule from Minsk to Belarus".

Breathe, motherfucker, breathe.

Here's me: "Are you asking me for a schedule from Dormagen to Minsk?? Is that what you're asking me??"

"Yes."

Praise fucking be.

Here's me: "AHA! Ok. A schedule! From Dormagen to Minsk! Great - now, a schedule for what, exactly, from Dormagen to Minsk??"

"Sailings"


Here’s me: “Theres… no… water.. in.. between… them….”