French Disconnection

(I’ve come to Quebec to learn how to improve my French. This is the first time I’ve ever gone on a plane by myself, much less to a place where English is a secondary language, so I’m rather nervous. I approach the customs counter wearing a shirt with English phrasing and looking very much like a tourist.)

Agent: “Bonjour.”

Me: *thinking I should at least give it a shot* “Bonjour.”

(The agent goes through his directions in French. Both his speed and his accent completely throw me off and I just stand there.)

Me: *in English* “Well, if you’re going to go that fast.”

(He stops and stares at me before breaking down into laughter for at least a solid minute.)

Agent: “I’m so sorry, miss.”

Me: “It’s all right.”

(Everything proceeds normally until we get to the reason for my stay.)

Me: “You’ll love this. I’m here to study French.”

(He giggles as I hand over my papers and checks to make sure everything is in order. I get everything back.)

Agent: “Bon journee mademoiselle.”

Me: “Bon journee.”

(I couldn’t be mad at a guy with a good sense of humor and a thankless job. I hope I made his day.)