I was coming out of the grocery store last night with my 15 items or less, and in the parking lot I encountered a fairly unhappy fellow with a presumably attached female. The source of his unhappiness? The store’s ATM. “This is the United States of America,” he growled. “We shouldn’t have to push a button for English; they should have to push a button for Español.”
I figured that if Presumably Attached Female hadn’t pointed out to him that both English and Spanish users have to push a button — that’s how the machine starts up — there wasn’t much point in my doing so, so I trotted on, if my typical just-about-twilight-after-a-long-day gait can be considered a trot.
Aside: One of my land-based phones has three-language capability, which has to be reset every time the battery for the Caller ID module is changed out; I don’t even bother, and often as not I get Spanish or French. (Now if it had actual translation capability for calls … but no, not at that price point.)