A vintage tale of xenophobia.She was laughing out loud. In her head, she was totally convinced she'd come up with the wittiest comment ever. That was my work colleague, a 50-year-old lady from a certain Northern town.
Proud owner of a second home in Provence, she was moaning about the fact that -when in France- her husband tends to attract people asking for directions. "They always mistake him for a local and ask him where places are", she added.
And then this: "So you know what I'm gonna get him for St George's Day? A t-shirt carrying a massive sign that says I'm fookin English, I don't speak fookin French, so stop asking me for directions!!!
Then another guffaw followed. And another. And then I left the room.
3 comments:
I get asked for directions when I'm in Spain and I think it's rather awesome!
What a tool.
PS: And I'm taking Spanish lessons this year so that when I go there I don't feel like an English turd.
It is!
I have a cousin who lives near Marbella. Three years he's been there he hasn't picked up a word.
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