Reminder: The Power of Typos
The Power of One Wrong Word
The Best Typos Never Go Away
In college, when the first Target stores were opening, a friend and I went to one. In line for a cashier, two women had a shopping cart piled with clothes. As they waited, one held up a pair of slacks still on a hanger, saying loudly, “I just love this new color fuck-sha. From now on, fuck-sha is going to be my signature color!”
It took us a beat to realize she meant “fuschia.” All the clothes the pair planned to buy were colored fuschia. At the moment, we didn’t laugh, but we’ve laughed every time we recount that scene. Such a moment would’ve been a nonstarter had it not been for the mistake.
Likewise, a Polish friend tells a great story about his first Christmas dinner with the family of a fiance in America. Among the fiance’s relatives was an uncle with a rough grasp of the Polish language. To make my friend Pavel feel at home, this uncle peppered him with Polish small talk. Finally asking, in Polish, “Tell us, Pavel, what is your scrotum like?”
With the entire table waiting, Pavel weighed his options. Was this stranger really asking about his scrotum? Did Americans regularly discuss scrotums over Christmas dinner? Pavel pushed back for clarity. It seems that the Polish word for Christmas or holiday or nativity was very close to the word for scrotum. The uncle had merely chosen the wrong word … This came to light just a heartbeat before Pavel was ready to regale his new family with fine scrotal details over the turkey and cranberry sauce.
In either anecdote, the wonderful tension hangs in the moment before the mistake is realized. The clarity brings joy, and that beat of joy is available each time the story can be retold.
Do you have a similar “typo” anecdote? Just one word makes all of the difference.
Me and Krissy were speculating on a friend's diet. He barely ate. When he did, he ate like a little kid, if the kid ate sardines, drank fish oil, and ate nachos with vegan cheese crumbles.
"I think he struggles with inflation," I said.
Krissy roared, thinking I was accusing our friend of being poor.
"No, you know, like he's gotta wrap his joints and stuff."
Yeah, inflation wasn't the word. But now whenever worried of going overbudget at dinner, I cite inflation as a dietary concern.
I had checked out and returned an Amy Hempel book from the library. It did not get checked back into the system so the next time I tried to check out a book the woman behind the counter looked at me an asked “Do have reasons to live?”. Upon seeing the confusion on my face, she clarified that she was asking about the book Reasons to Live by Amy Hempel.