Sign of a Good Night

After crawling out of bed this morning, prising the eyes open with matchsticks and putting all of the empties into a bucket ready for the rubbish, it occurred to me what a good night we just had with our new french neighbours.

They speak only French and about 20 words of Spanish. We speak German, English and a poor level of Spanish.

The evening began with very low level conversation due to the language barrier.

The evening ended with great conversation, nostalgic music of ELO, Supertramp, Dr. Hook (my favourite) etc.

And do you know why the communication improved so much during the evening?

Well, it is in the waste bucket this morning.

An empty bottle of Champagne, three empty bottles of red, and a drained bottle of Scotch, not to mention a half empty bottle of Kentucky Bourbon πŸ™‚

Please don’t be offended if I don’t reply to any comments for a while.

FOE, where have you hidden the paracetamol?

Author: gazoopi

After finally leaving the world of the black suit and tie, briefcase and laptop, hotel rooms and airports, and donning sandals, jeans and a flat cap, I have entered a new world of creative writing. If, through my written work, I can create a smile, cause a tear to fall or stimulate an LOL from my readers, I will be a winner!

6 thoughts on “Sign of a Good Night”

  1. So come on, what language did you settle on or some splendid mangled polyglot?

    Reminds me of an evening several lifetimes ago. Late night lock in, police either end of the village, couldn’t move a car until shift change at 6am-
    By 4am we were all considerably the worse for wear. Three of us in a row at the bar. Elwyn in the middle goes off into a long ramble, couldn’t understand a word. Thought he was talking to himself in Welsh. Spoke to Roger the other side.
    “What’s he saying then?”
    “No idea, thought he was talking to you in English!”
    Over the years we have pondered this ‘speaking in tongues’ but never came to any sound conclusion!

  2. PS Several people left at 6am to go straight to their milking parlours! Poor old cows that morning!

  3. What language did we settle on Christine?
    We began with really bad French and Spanish, progressed into Franish and after the second bottle didn’t give a toss any more πŸ™‚

  4. I have a friend who at a certain specific moment switches from perfectly lucid English, his native tongue, into Spanish, even though nobody in his company speaks that language. He seems totally oblivious of it and the next day is always unaware that it has happened. But for the rest of us, we know it is time for him to ‘step awaaay from the bottle!’

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