Back to life, back to reality. This of course means my stories about the glamorous life in the suburbs are back full force. As much as I know you are dying to hear about me avoiding the pool dude who talks to my boobs, my piles of dirty laundry and what the scandalous neighbours have been up to, I shall save those stories for another day because I simply must prattle on (I’m 40 now I can say prattle) about Paris! 
We arrived in Paris after our red eye flight. Now I understand why they call it the red eye. If you are a nervous flyer and excited about what lays ahead, no way in hell are you going to be able to sleep! Red Eyes. Anyway, we arrive, catch a 40 minute 55 Euro cab ride to our hotel and the hotel gods shine down upon us. Our room is ready! 
We stash our bags and go out to explore one of the most romantic cities in the world!
As we wander the streets I hear a familiar grumbling and realize ..it’s my Hubby’s stomach. We need food. Now. Perfect. A chance to practice that high school French!
We enter an intriguing boulangerie and peruse a mouth watering selection of sandwiches, pastries and unfamiliar yummies. We start panicking slightly as we realize the line we are in is moving at a rapid speed, the french language rolling off the tongues of the locals, even faster. We are not ready to order, and I’m not sure, but I do not think this is French? No one taught me this language! These people are speaking so fast I can’t even pick out a word.
No worries, I assure my Hubby. I’ve got this. When it’s our turn I face the sweet blonde behind the counter and not so boldly state en francais. Pardon, Je ne pas parle francais?
The tiny shop erupts with laughter.
What? What did I do?
“Oh…” the little shop owner replies back in his charming French accent, “I think you just did.” Le Sigh. How embarrassing.
Six shades of red later we leave with our poulet and baguette and a couple of free desserts to make up for the fact that my French entertained the crap out of them our embarrassment.
So, my French may suck, but it gets me free dessert!
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Free Dessert. Finally a reason to stop feeling inferior about only speaking the English!
ha ha, too funny!
aaah! free desert.. can’t beat that!!
It’s all Greek to me!
Love it! And I’m sure the French appreciated your efforts, regardless.
Haha. When I was acually IN highschool I went to Paris and was convinced the French they’d been teach me for 3 years was NOT the french they were speaking. Might as well have been Greek! So I’m impressed you even tried! And hey, free dessert!
LOL! “Le Sigh” cracked me up!
I’ve never been to Paris, but would love to go some time. It reminds me when I went to Quebec one time, and got totally turned around (before owning a GPS). I stopped to ask for directions and my high school french never taught me what a 4-way stop was called. After 15 mins of this pour man trying to explain just that to me, picture this:
man pretends he’s driving a car, and stops “arret” then does the same thing four more times in four different directions….I say “OH, a four way stop!?” The man got so frustrated with me he waved me off and walked away!
I eventually found my way back.
CBG
canadianbloggergirl.blogspot.com
Oh, i don’t even understand any of it. I’m always awed to people speaking French. And my eldest is learning the language and I always ask her to speak French phrases. I love it! Maybe I’ll take classes in the future.
Love to hear more stories.
Ah french! It’s hard to speak another language, isn’t it? My husband worked in mntreal, in a French facility for 2 years, and several times in large meetings he confused his verbs and said that they needed to f$&@ something rather than lower it. He did this many many times, and at least you got french treats for your bad French!
ha at least you scored free food out of it…smiles.
What a great beginning to your trip –free French dessert! 🙂
The French are not what the books say they are (i.e., stuck-up, snobbish) –as long as you at least attempt to speak their language. 🙂
It sounds like you had a great trip! Funny story, too 🙂
Hey, I’m just realizing, I try to speak Russian here in Moscow all the time and get nada…only laughter, no dessert.
Here’s how you say “I don’t understand Russian” in Russian:
Ya nay poni-my-you pa rooski! Hopefully, you’ll never have to use that one.
Can’t wait to hear more about your Parisian adventure.
Welcome to the club! It’s a great club to be in! 🙂
I love your little story very cute. I took French, too (pretty much cheated my way through). Hey, it’s a tough language.
The little “blunder” is so worth a free dessert. In Paris, too. I bet it was FAB!
Have a great day!
Too funny! Great story! Congrats on being 40! I turned 40 back in March.
A little embarrassment for free dessert seems fair.