On the train today four French-speaking tourists got on and sat nearby. I love listening to French… nothing like native speakers to remind me how poorly I speak it. They were rattling on as if no one around could understand them—mostly true. They were annoyed with the weather and hoping to find Times Square. I almost spoke up.
Unfortunately I remember the polite but pained expressions of my friends from Lausanne when I butchered their language. Plus the guy sitting next to me was way too cute (dark features with pale blue eyes!!). So I sat there with a bemused expression on my face while picking out snatches of meaning from their prattle.
My courage finally peaked a few seconds after I got off the train. *sigh* Won't let that happen again! Next time, cute or not, I will frighten tourists with my boldness and poor ability to communicate.
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