The other day I walked into a department store and had a conversation which made me feel foolish. It was also frustrating … It's the kind of conversation I have an awful lot nowadays … The conversation always goes something like this:

I walk up to the counter, intent on buying some socks. “Bonjour,” says the woman behind the counter, smiling. “Est-ce que je peux vous aider?” “Oui,” I smile back. “Je voudrais acheter des bas comme ca.” I point to some socks on display in the showcase. “En beige, s'il vous plaît.” “Yes, of course, Madame,” she responds in English. “What size?” “Er …” I pause, “nine and a half, please.”

Our transaction continues smoothly and I thank her and leave the store. But inwardly, the whole time this pleasant bilingual woman is fishing my socks out of the showcase and putting them in a bag and taking the money, I am cursing. Dammit, I want to say. […]