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From an old website, Alien in Montreal

From time to time, when I find myself briefly without the company of my wife, and, upon the rare occasion when I happen to be in a bar (very infrequently...), I do, sometimes, now and then, get chatted up by strange women.

So, this drunken English Canadian (which simply means that she speaks English, rather than is English), quickly picks up on my accent as I'm bleeding my Visa card dry to buy the last Stout of the evening at 2am in the Reservoir. She tells me that she spent a loooong time in England a while ago. The conversation goes like this:

  'I lived in Burn-in-the-mouth' 
  'Where, sorry?' 
  'Umm, Ber-um-in-tha-moof?' 
  'Sorry, no.  Whereabouts is it?' 
  'Near the sea.  Burm-em-oof?' 
  'Aaah!  Bournemouth?' 
  'Yes, that's it.  I loved it there.  I do a great accent.' 
  'Go on then.' 
  'I'm already doing it.' 
  'Oh.  Yes, it's very good.  Look, there's my wife.' 

It actually seems that the English accent here has the same kind of effect that the French accent has on Brits (well, at least upon this occasion) - This is the first time this has happened to me for 12 years - the last time being a girl who would say things to me like, 'Oh, I love your accent. You could talk to me all night.' (Which, as I look back, might have been a come-on, now that I think about it). Anyway, this was all a bit fishy, as at the time I had a broad Scouse accent and the thought of listening to a scouser whispering in my ear all night makes me think of being on a midnight bank-job rather than in a bedroom. (Apologies to any scousers out there).

Modern edit: Ah, Le Reservoir, how I miss you.