Actual conversations with Mr. French

I had just finished crushing 4 cloves of garlic into my green bean salad. I tasted a green bean before putting it out on the table.

"Ohhh. That is strong. Maybe that's too much garlic."

Mr. French cocked his head to the side, furrowed his brow and said,

"Is that even possible?...too much garlic?"



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This morning, when I came in from my run, Mr. French met me at the door and informed me that he had finally tried the free sample of anti-stress aroma therapy bath gel we had gotten from the hotel in Aix-en-Provence.

"So? How do you feel?" I asked, with fake enthusiasm.

"Boy, do I feel stress-free now." He said with a large, fake smile on his face.

"So, it doesn't even matter that you have to give a job interview in French today?"

"Yeah!" same fake smile still plastered to his face.

"There's a blog post in there somewhere."


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Mr. French was recently paid the highest compliment he could ever imagine.

A native Frenchman started a conversation with him in the parking lot of our apartment building. After speaking with him for awhile, the Frenchman said,

(in French, of course)

"Are you from Britain?"

"No. I'm American. Why?"

"Because you speak French with a British accent."