Audiobook Demo
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
North American (General)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
a man called Uber By Frederick Bachmann. Audiobook by brian parents. Chapter one A man called Uva buys a computer that is not a computer Cuba is 59. He drives a saab. He's the kind of man who points at people, he doesn't like the look of as if they were burglars and his forefinger a policeman's flashlight. He stands at the counter of a shop where owners of japanese cars come to purchase white cables. You've a eyes the sales assistant for a long time before shaking a medium sized white box at him. So this is one of those old pads, is it? He demands the assistant, A young man with a single digit body mass index looks ill at ease. He visibly struggles to control his urge to ****** the box out of UVA's hands. Yes, exactly. An ipad. Do you think you could stop shaking it like that? You've a gives the box a skeptical glance as if it's a highly dubious sort of box, a box that rides a scooter and wears tracksuit pants and just called Uva my friend before offering to sell him a watch. I see. So it's a computer. Yes. The sales assistant nods, then hesitates and quickly shakes his head. Yes. Or what I mean is it's an ipad. Some people call it a tablet and others call it a surfing device. There are different ways of looking at it. You've a looks at the sales assistant as if he has just spoken backwards before shaking the box again. But is it good this thing? The assistant nods confusingly. Yes. Or? Mhm. How do you mean you've a size and starts talking slowly articulating his words as if the only problem here is his adversaries impaired hearing. Is it good? Is it a good computer? The assistant scratches his chin. I mean, yeah, it's really good. But it depends what sort of computer you want. You've a glares at him. I want a computer. A normal bloody computer. Silence descends over the two men for a short while. The assistant clears his throat. Well. Mhm. It isn't really a normal computer. Maybe you'd rather have a uh the assistance stops and seems to be looking for a word that falls within the bounds of comprehension of the man facing him. Then he clears his throat again and says laptop. You've a shakes his head wildly and leans menacingly over the counter. No I don't want a laptop. I want a computer. The assistant nods, pedagogic lee. Laptop is a computer. UBA insulted, glares at him and stabs his forefinger at the counter. You think? I don't know that? Another silence. As if two gunmen have suddenly realized they have forgotten to bring their pistols, cuba looks at the box for a long time as though he's waiting for it to make a confession. Where does the keyboard pull out? He mutters. Eventually the sales assistant rubs his palms against the edge of the counter and shifts his weight nervously from foot to foot. As young men employed in retail outlets often do when they begin to understand that something is going to take considerably more time than they had initially hoped. Well, this one doesn't actually have a keyboard, you've a does something with his eyebrows. Ah of course he splutters because you have to buy it as an extra. Don't you know what I mean? Is that the computer doesn't have a separate keyboard? You control everything from the screen. You've a shakes his head in disbelief as if he's just witnessed the sales assistant walking around the counter and licking the glass fronted display cabinet. But I have to have a keyboard. You do understand that The young man size deeply as if patiently counting to 10. Okay I understand. In that case I don't think you should go for this computer. I think you should buy something like a Mac book instead. Make book cuba says far from convinced. Is that one of those blessed e readers everyone's talking about? No. A Mac book is it's a it's a laptop with a keyboard. Okay you've a hisses. He looks around the shop for a moment. So are they any good then? The sales assistant looks down at the counter in a way that seems to reveal a fiercely yet barely controlled desire to begin clawing his own face. Then he suddenly brightens, flashing an energetic smile. You know what? Let me see if my colleague is finished with his customer so he can come and give you a demonstration. You've a checks his watch and grudgingly agrees, reminding the assistant that some people have better things to do than stand around all day waiting. The assistant gives him a quick nod, then disappears and comes back after a few moments with a colleague. The colleague looks very happy as people do when they have not been working for a sufficient stretch of time as sales assistance. Hi, how can I help you? You've a drills his police flashlight finger into the counter. I want a computer. The colleague no longer looks quite as happy. He gives the first sales assistant and insinuating glance as if to say he'll pay him back for this. In the meantime, the first sales assistant mutters, I can't take anymore. I'm going for lunch. Lunch snorts, cuba That's the only thing people care about nowadays. I'm sorry, says the colleague, and turns around, launch. He sneers, then tosses the box onto the counter and swiftly walks out