To A French Basher
Yes, I have an accent. It is because I was brought up in France, you see. Education is good and free there, but obviously it is also in French. I have been living here for nine years now, so stop showing me your ear when I speak, please. You understand me perfectly well. Give me a break. Don’t worry, I get my revenge from time to time when you try to say a French word like ‘savoir faire’ to impress your audience. I frown. It is your pronunciation, you see. I didn’t get it. In fact, I hate to break it to you, but your French sucks. My English is so much better than your French and that’s something you should remember from time to time.
Don’t make a pass at me because I am French. I have been told far too many times that I look French and that the way I speak is sexy. I wouldn’t know, I did nothing for this, and it is definitively not a sign that I fancy you. I live here, just like you. I work, I take my kids to school, I pay my taxes. Now can we have a normal conversation please?
I know that it might come as a shock, but most French men don’t have any mistress and some of us (like me) don’t eat frog, snail and horse-meat. And yes, French women do sometimes get fat. In fact, there is no such thing as ‘The French’. We just take it one day at a time. Oh, and I don’t make political decisions in Paris, so stop implying that I have something to do with French agricultural subsidiaries just because I happen to be the only French in the room. Not my fault.
Well now, I have a confession to make: I am British too. Yes, I have a British passport. I will vote at the next general election, just like you. Now don’t give me another historical lecture to try to convince me that we are hereditary enemies and that you are so superior. Why do you need to score points at every possible opportunity? What is there to win exactly? I live here and I love it, I don’t need any convincing. Nor do I need constant reminders that I don’t really belong here. Whether you like it or not, I officially do, actually.
Finally, I would like to offer you some fashion advice: ditch the stripes, they really make you look fatter. And no, Evian doesn’t have an oily taste.
I sincerely hope that, one day, you will see me as I am.
Muriel – A French Yummy Mummy In London