Yesterday morning, Zach and I ate breakfast at a local restaurant. A family of four sat at the table next to us.
Zach says I'm nosy... and he's entirely true. I do tend to overhear conversations. Particularly when I hear the word "France" tossed around so liberally. I turned my ears their direction, thinking they must be talking about the results from the first round of the French presidential election.
Instead, this is what I heard:
Brother #1: "And I'd like the French toast..."
Waiter: "Alright."
Brother #1: "But, can you make it as American as possible?"
pause
Waiter: "I'm sorry. What did you say?"
Brother #1: "The French toast. I want it as American as possible."
Brother #2: "We hate French things."
Brother #1: "So, if you could minimize the 'Frenchiness' of the French toast, we'd really appreciate it."
Brother #2's Wife: "Yeah, that way the breakfast will be a little less cowardly."
At this point, Brother #2's daughter (who looked to be about ten years old) erupted in a fit of giggles. The waiter shifted uncomfrotably.
Waiter: "Alright, as... uh... as 'American' as possible... got it."
Brother #2: "Oh, and could I please add a side of Canadian bacon to my order? I forgot to tell you earlier."
Waiter: "Extra side of Canadian bacon... got it!"
Brother #1: "Wait, it's not from Quebec, is it?"
Waiter: "Uh... no I'm pretty sure it's domestic - not even from Canada."
Brother #1: "Oh, that's good!"
Brother #2: "What a relief."
Brother #2's Wife: "We hate all things French."
Waiter: "Uh... okay, guys. I'll put your orders in, and breakfast'll be up soon."
I would've loudly ordered a croissant after that, but they weren't on the menu.
Posted by James at April 29, 2007 01:04 PM