One takes it that English, with its limited emotion, is the language of business; Italian, on the border of hysteria, of irritation; Spanish, of enthusiasm; German, argument—”Agree or I will keep spitting on you”; but French, when spoken softly, is the talk of love.

I do not understand many words in French, but I can read the speaker’s intention. And so it was when I suspected one young man say to an other, I want to put my tongue where no other has. In the second man’s brief hesitation, I could see the obvious question, Inner ear or nasal cavity? His final decision was, “Sure, why not.” The French are an agreeable lot.


Published by Sambandar

Hiker, bridge player, and amateur opinionist living in this wonderful American city for nearly 30 years. I maintain a silly blog when traveling.

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