So, we've been getting a lot of visitors to our house of late. As introverts and homebodies, we like to discourage that. However, sometimes someone stops by and presents you with something so unexpected that it derails your entire train of thought - for the day.
A woman came by my door yesterday. Actually, it was two women. Smiling, she prefaced her pitch: "This is going to sound odd." She had me at odd.
"Do you have any French speakers at home?" she inquired.
My brow furrowed. "No. Only Spanish speakers (speaker, actually - just me, despite what my son says) , unfortunately," I answered. Unfortunately? I mentally chastised myself. I live in Southern California - San Diego, California. California doesn't get any more southern than where I live! Also, you'd be surprised at how many times I've used Spanish in the past few months (at Walmart, and at a parking lot in L.A.). Who the heck needs French in San Diego?
"Oh, well thank you," she said...and then left.
I stared at her (and her friend's) retreating back for a moment. What in the heck was that about? My husband suggested that maybe she needed an interpreter (interpreters are for verbal communications while translators are for written communications. I'm sorry if that FYI comes off as condescending.) I messaged a friend of mine to see what she could make of it. She said that maybe they were looking to start a French language club or something.
For a second, I wondered what a Spanish speaking club would be like. Then, I remembered that I was Puerto Rican (living in San Diego) and felt stupid. If I want to be part of a Spanish speaking club, all I have to do is call my mom or drive a few miles south.
Still, it was interesting. It got this writer's wheels turning. I might have to use this for a book...
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