A real French lesson
Taking the train back from Auxerre the other day I got a live French
lesson. Sitting across from us was a young tough guy, about twenty,
wearing a permanent sneer and blocking the
aisle with his legs. Originally he was sitting across from a pretty young woman, but
after he wouldn’t leave her alone
she got up and moved.
So we’re cruising along for a few minutes and suddenly the guy lights up a cigarette. French trains have been non-smoking for several years. I’m a non-confrontational wuss, particularly in French, but this pissed me off. Here’s how the conversation went (in French, unless noted).
Excuse me sir, but this is a non-smoking train.My accent is so awful it’s immediately obvious I don’t speak much French. I think the game he was playing was to pretend he couldn’t understand me, so the fault was mine. Turning the question around on him fixed that; he could hardly admit he didn’t understand the sign. Either that, or my increasingly loud voice was attracting more attention than he wanted.
Huh?
This place is non-smoking.
grunt, sneer
(English) What, are you just an ass? You can’t smoke here.
leer. I can’t understand you.
(French) See the sign? Non smoking. Do you understand it?
silence
You cannot smoke here.
storms off, swearing
Anyway, off he went to smoke somewhere else. Next to a grandma, who also told him off. He jumped off the train at the next stop. And me? Apparently I know enough French to stare down a punk.