Practice, comrade

The call is for a woman I do not know.

“Not me,” I say in my best Russian accent.

“Kim, you owe $1,089 to Victoria’s Secret. Are you able to make a payment?”

“Pay?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“But you owe this money, Kim.”

“Not Kim,” I insist, my accent as thick as it goes.

He calls me a liar.

“I say, NOT Kim.”

He says he’ll play back the tape.

“Da! Tape!”

He hangs up, and I must face the hard truth that my Russian accent needs a lot of work.

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