(I am an American, but am currently living in Spain teaching English. I’m teaching a five-year-old girl about different ‘family’ vocabulary. She has just learned the word ‘mom.’)

Girl: “Do you have a mom?”

Me: “Yes, of course!”

Girl: “Where is your mom?”

Me: “Well, she is in the United States. That’s where I’m from.”

Girl: *starting to look quite concerned* “But when will she come to visit you here?”

Me: “She’s pretty far away so she won’t be able to visit me here, but I’ll get to see her again soon when I go back to the US.”

Girl: *absolutely devastated* “Doesn’t she love you?!”

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(This happens on a class trip to Spain after a girl realizes she left her comb at home.)

Girl: *walks up to front desk* “Do you have any combs?”

Employee: “No hablo Ingles.”

Girl: *in Spanish* “Necesito un pene, por favor.”

Employee: *laughs hysterically*

Girl: *angry* “Hey! Necesito un pene!” *pantomimes brushing hair*

Employee: *realizes what’s going on, takes out comb, and hands it to girl*

Girl: “Sí!”

Employee: “Ese es ‘un peine.'” *That’s ‘un peine.’* “Un pene es…” *points to his privates*

Girl: “Oh. S***!”

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(I’m a teenager, although I look younger. My father owns a small, English-run shop, and I work some shifts there if I want some extra cash. My father can’t speak a word of Spanish, although I can since I go to school in Spain. Two customers walk in, talking in Spanish.)

Customer #1: “I hate this shop! It’s stupid, and they don’t even speak Spanish.”

Customer #2: “I know, right? I only come in here so I can mentally mock everything.”

(I’ve been listening the whole time, but they’ve only just spotted me.)

Customer #1: “Look! They’ve hired some low-life kid to help them out. I swear that’s illegal; I’m going to report it because it will be funny.”

(I’ve been keeping quiet, but now I get angry. I twist around, facing the men, and start talking to them in Spanish.)

Me: “Okay, listen up: I’m a teenager, and my dad owns this shop. In case you haven’t noticed already, I do speak Spanish, and I’ve heard everything you just said. So if you hate this shop so much, why don’t you get out?”

(We never see them again, which my father appreciates since they were always coming in without buying anything and he didn’t know how to say anything!)

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(I am in a very popular burger chain restaurant in Barcelona. I have placed my order with the very helpful assistant, and am waiting for my food. The next two customers are large British men in their 50s. I am British, but speak reasonable Spanish.)

Customer: *in a broad North Yorkshire accent* “I want a large burger, a large fries, and a large Diet Coke.”

(The girl behind the counter, who doesn’t speak English, looks blank and then says in Spanish that she doesn’t understand.)

Customer: *speaking loudly and enunciating each word slowly* “I want a LARGE BURGER, a LARGE FRIES and a LARGE DIET COKE!”

(The server is now looking distressed and uncomfortable, so I take pity on her, and tell her what the customer has ordered in Spanish. She thanks me profusely and places the order. The first customer shakes his head in disgust and turns to me.)

Customer: “Thanks, love. These f****** foreigners, eh? They don’t speak the language.”

Me: “Wow.”

(I’m in Spain, practicing Spanish for my university studies. I’m ringing my father back in England for some advice.)

Me: “So, Dad, the bulb in my bedroom has blown. I’ve never replaced one by myself before. Can you give me some tips?”

Dad: “What? No, it hasn’t; what are you on about?”

Me: “My bedroom’s only light is gone; I need help!”

Dad: “It’s not your only light. I know you have a lamp. It’s tall so it reaches your bed!”

Me: *penny drops* “Dad, I’m talking about my bedroom in Spain, not England. How would I know the state of my light in another country?!”

Dad: “Ooh. I was wondering that myself.”

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