"Beer there, drank that"
Rome, Italy | A few days after attempting to escape France and anything french, it was a bit disappointing to meet a lot of people still speaking french: a roommate from the hostel in Firenze, a seatmate from the train, and a few others.
Then I also had this encounter with a waiter in a local Italian restaurant who fluently spoke the language to a French assemblage at the corner table, mostly small talk regarding the recent ball game.
Subsequently, he received orders from adjacent tables, articulating in proficient English, as one would expect.
Yet, more remarkably, he tacitly conveyed his warm "felicidades" to the South American group occupying the neighboring table, extending them heartfelt congratulatory message for Argentina's triumph, in topnotch Spanish.
Later on, he conversed in Italian tongue with the denizens of the kitchen and the local patrons feasting.
That was a total of 4 languages he managed to speak in a span of ~5 minutes. Tres bien ! 👏
When it finally was my turn, I jokingly asked
"penge po tubig". Man, I couldn't paint that puzzled face of
his. But I took it as a big hint to have a beer instead, invoking my personal beer's law, right there and then.
