What?

I have an accent impairment. If you speak with an accent of any kind - Spanish, Italian, Indian, Canadian - I can't understand you. Living on the Plains for much of my life, I haven't had a lot of exposure to people that don't speak English. I grew up in predominantly Norwegian communities, so I can recognize their words. Not that this fact makes their conversations easier to understand.... guess I shouldn't go any further down that road!
I even struggle to understand small children. When my nephews were growing up and learning to talk, I often had to look to their parents for translation. I would ask them to repeat themselves until even the puppy knew what they were trying to say and I was still completely clueless.
Telemarketers who have the unfortunate task of calling me soon find that I am a lost cause. I think that there is probably a picture of me in a remote call center somewhere with the caption, "Yikes!!".
My inability to understand accents was brought home to me once again on Sunday evening as I struggled to hook up my wireless internet modem. I am not real computer savvy and I knew this task would be challenging. However, storm clouds began to form when I opened the instruction sheet and began to unfold the paper only to find it was the size of my bedspread! It contained words such as "ethernet", "components" and "flashing lights" and I knew I was in trouble.
I got to Step 4 without too many problems. Step 4 required me to hook the laptop up to the modem with a yellow cable and then.... well, I couldn't figure out the rest of the instructions. So I picked up the cordless phone and dialed support. God was with me and I didn't have to languish on hold at all. I was met with a cheery voice who said something that sounded like "Hello, may I show you something in a lemon yellow rain coat". I had reached a tech support associate who had a very thick Indian accent! That poor woman. Little did she know she would be spending the next hour trying to talk me through a procedure that I wouldn't have understood if she spoke perfect English and was standing right next to me. I immediately began to fast and pray!
While the wonderful, polite and patient associate tried to take me through the instructions step by step, I interrupted frequently to ask clarification. "Pardon me" "Could you please repeat that?" and "I'm sorry I didn't catch that last step" polka dotted the next sixty minutes. At one point, she asked me to find something that sounded very much to me like a "steak". Well, I saw nothing that looked remotely like a "steak" and resorted to my litany of "excuse me, could you please repeat that?" After a very long five minutes for both of us, I finally understood that she was asking me to locate the "switch". Poor, poor tech lady!
After some troubleshooting, we were able to get everything set up and I was surfing the net like a beach bum. She asked the final "is there anything else I can assist you with today?" and we both breathed a sigh of relief as we set down our respective phones.
I came to the conclusion on Sunday that whatever tech support staff earn, it's not enough. Working with people who are don't understand basic computer hardware, such as how to turn on their system would try the patience of even our good friend Job. You deserve an extra reward in heaven.
As for me, I'm thinking of checking out Rosetta Stone to see if they have some program that might help me. I have no idea what some of these languages would sound like with a North Dakota accent, but I'm not too worried. After all, almost every tongue has a phrase that means, "what?".