Perfect English

On my way to see the Brit this past weekend, a lady pulling a suitcase saw me walking down the street towards the train station and made a beeline to intercept. She asked if I knew where Boulevard X was and I could barely get three words out before she gave a nervous laugh combined with a sigh and said “Thank God, perfect English”. I don’t know if she realized that I was American or just thought I was a française with an impeccable accent. As we went in different directions I chuckled to myself in sympathy because I understood how she felt and how relieved she must be.

Your English is really good!

I was at my local boulangerie (which received a write-up in Elle btw) and there were some Americans behind me in line. One of them commented that there were a lot of people and I responded that the line would go quickly. The guy looked surprised and told me that my English was good. Hmmm….thanks.

almost parisian

I’m back online after a long Easter weekend during which the tourist invasion started. The boyfriend was here and everywhere we went there seemed to be as many (or more) English speakers as French people. While tourists are sometimes irritating (e.g. when loud and obnoxious) they can also be a source of amusement.
During dinner at one of our favorite and always busy restaurants, the boyfriend and I were seated next to an English speaking couple and we ended up play a game of “Guess the accent”. Normally we can pick them out right away, but this time due to background noise and the couple speaking very softly we were thrown for a loop. At first I thought they were Australian and then I realized the lady sounded Irish. The boyfriend said the man sounded like an Aussie who had lived in England for a long time.

Shortly before they left, the woman whined to her husband that the waitress kept speaking to them in English (even though the wife attempted to communicate in French). The boyfriend and I spoke with each other in English and with the waitress in French. She replied only in French despite hearing us converse in English. I must admit that when I heard the wife’s complaint I thought happily and with a smirk – “that’s because you’re a tourist whereas we are NOT”. It was one of those moments when I figured that I’d escaped being noticed as an American abroad and was just another (faux) Parisian enjoying dinner.