30105: Anonymous: Re reply from Karshan (fwd)

[Bob Corbett <corbetre@webster.edu>]

Sir, Could this please be posted anonymously?

Karshan (Mrs?).

Okay. Simple. I think that all who speak and read English and like Haiti read 
the Corbett list. That's why I thought that Aristide reads it too. I am 
sorry...

Or maybe he does. I read yesterday (I spend weeks with emails not read), a 
reply from Amy Wilentz(?). Your reply did not refute her assertion. So it would 
seem that Aristide reads here too... maybe not from Pretoria.

Anyway, no one really cares, I'd imagine. But for me, as a Haitian, I know how 
I feel sometimes. I get confused and this is why. Read below.

Six months ago, I was on a Metro train for the very first time. The sign said: 
"Direction Vienna". I follow instructions well, as I was told that the train 
would automatically stop where I was going because, Farragut North, Washington 
DC (my stop) is one of the Vienna train's normal stops. So I sat there, fearing 
the noise whenever we hit the underground. Suddenly, the train stopped and I 
was in Farragut North (DC). I just got off, like others did.

So to me, that is how all transporting machines in the US work. They stop 
mechanically, without human intervention (I didn't see the train conductor by 
the way; I thought the machine stopped on its own, because the machine somehow 
knew that I, I was in it and going to Farragut North; that's perfect 
machine-human-telepathy).

So last week, I tried that machine-human-telepathy stuff again. I got into an 
elevator for a job interview in Miami, Florida. The elevator has 7 floors and I 
was supposed to stop at the 5th floor. There were other people in that 
elevator. The first person I noticed, hit the button 7, and the building has 7 
floors. So I assumed that the elevator would still stop at the 5th floor, since 
I was in it. Well, I was wrong but please don't laugh. I'm that stupid.

It just so happened that all the people in the elvator (minus myself) were 
going to the same 7th floor. They all got off at their destination and I stood 
there, feeling stranded. One of them, kind enough, asked me where I was going 
once we got to that 7th floor. I told her; she pushed the button # 5 for me as 
she was getting off. The elevator went its merry way to the 5th floor, and 
there I was. Happy me.

So there I was, at 58 years old, learning something new from a younger person: 
there is no machine-human-telepathy. I am just the stupid one.

And all this, Karshan, just to tell you that I thought that Aristide reads the 
Corbett list. Oh well... I was just wrong. I hope all is well.

Anonymous