Dubble Spelling Fale

While out and about the other day, I saw the sign pictured above.  Imagine my excitement when I realized that, finally, I had found a place where I could remot my start!  Since the last time I motted was at least ten years ago, it’s definitely time to remot.  Now my seats, on the other hand, do not need to be weaved.  They are in perfectly good shape.  However, it is good to know that there is a seat weamer working at the same place my start could get remotted.  What luck!  Hmmmm, maybe they meant “seat weaner”.  Perhaps it is a new age technique to pry people from their heated seats when all other attempts have failed.  Well, they had best not try to pry me out of my comfortably (but unheated) bolstered seats.  I will poke their eyes out.

I really hope they didn’t mean “seat wiener”.  That brings up visions of things like this:

Source 

If they are running a car and bicycle shop, best of luck to them.  In this economy, people need to be creative in order to make ends meet.  Of course, “seat wiener” could mean other things as well, but I really don’t want to go there.

When I showed DH the photo of the sign and told him I might put it on this blog, he said, “Why don’t you just tell them the truth?  You are a spelling Nazi.”  Okay, I admit I am kind of retentive about spelling.  When it comes to blogs and such, I can let spelling errors go.  We’ve all typed furiously, trying to keep up with our brains.  Often, our fingers can’t move fast enough and miss words all together.  I can deal with that.  What I can’t deal with are people who make signs for a living.  If you can’t spell (or can’t copy accurately) and you make signs, you are in the wrong line of work.  Same thing if you are a book editor.  I mean, come on!  I find spelling errors in just about every book I read.  These days, with spell check, it’s inexcusable.

My descent into spelling vigilantism began early.  Two misspelling incidents in particular stick out in my mind, although my friends and family may have more that I have conveniently forgotten.  The first incident was in my early twenties.  While driving along, I noticed road workers putting up new street signs.  I pulled over, and got their attention.  Through much laughter on my part (and confusion on theirs), I let them know that the street signs were spelled incorrectly.  I was laughing so hard, I could barely get the words out.  Later that day, I also called the Dept. of Transportation and told them what I saw.  They had a difficult time understanding what I was saying.    However, they must have figured it out sufficiently, as the signs were replaced within the next month.

While my biggest spelling annoyances are signs and then books, next on the list are menus.  When you’re in Europe or anywhere that English is the second language and they have made a menu for less-than-fluent tourists like me, it’s understandable.  When you’re in Canada (except Quebec ;-) ) or the US, it’s not.  Misspelling is particularly rife in Asian restaurants.  However, I always cut them a break because I love their food so much.  This brings me to a second incident, which occurred in an American food restaurant.  A group of us from high school got together for a meal at a nice waterfront restaurant.  It wasn’t “nice” as in upscale, it was just clean and trendy with good views and a menu with lots of variety.  We had our meal, and then it was time for dessert.  What did I spy on the menu but one of my favorites, chocolate mouse!  When the waiter arrived, I inquired about the mouse, and asked him a few questions, including if it was fresh or frozen.  Fortunately, he had a good sense of humor and went along with it.  My friends, however, were mortified.  Come to think of it, I don’t think we have been out for dinner since!