Friday, August 3, 2012

Honey, Go Get the Noose

I do a monthly French group for adults.  We believe that we are getting together to speak French with people who love speaking French.  9 times of out 10, it's an awkward group of people wishing they spoke better French than they actually do, and 10% of the time, there's someone who can't speak a word of French but thinks they belong.  We stand and sit around, wishing it was more than it is. 

We either eat a potluck dinner or watch a French movie.

I used to fantasize that each month would be a presentation about something wonderful about the French language and culture and we'd all leave with new knowledge and skills and people would return month after month, in droves.  I had a hard time finding anyone who knew anything about French language and culture, so when I found that meals and movies were the best attended nights, I opted for those two choices.  I pretty much have it down to a science. One month movie, the next month potluck. For 5 years this has worked well enough. 

Today, I received an email from an unfortunate man who teaches French at a local college.  He frequently organizes trips to France, but he is a real boor.  And I am not crazy about the way he speaks French.  He thinks he's very funny and clever.  I do not.  And he only ever contacts me or comes to my meetings if he thinks he can promote himself. 

He gets 100% no response from my participants.  This kind of fills me with glee.

Here is the email, and by the way, it was just like this in lower case, squished sentences, no greeting but I did add the color: 

would you ever be interested in my presenting a one hour story on the history of the French language?How it evolved from Latin...German influences etc.

Here is my response:

no, but I would be interested in you fastening a noose around my neck and kicking the blocks out from under me.  because even that could not be as torturous as sitting through an hour of language evolution.

Linking up  here, as I swing.


I love comments almost as much as I love summer. I reply to all comments except those ridiculous anonymous comments offering me dirty deeds and real estate. When you leave your comment, please make sure your own settings will allow me to reply to you. Nothing makes me sadder than replying to your comments and then realizing it’s going to the no-reply@blogger address!