True Story Tuesday--Parlez Vous Francais?

Today is True-Story Tuesday, and as I was pondering which of my life adventures to admit to share with y'all I was reminded of "just the one" after reading Serenity Now's Sign-language mishap! I noted this on her entry, but then decided I might as well admit it to everyone else. My mother certainly loves to share it with friends and family!

So..
It was the summer of 1983.
I was a mere girl of 16.
And as a lot of teenage girls do, my best friend and I had a penchant for double dating. She always seemed to have a steady-beau...and I never seemed to be attached for long, so she loved fixing me up.

*that's me on the left, her on the right*

Her fella, the best friend of my former boyfriend, had a cousin visiting him for the summer from North Carolina.
And he was cute!

Boy was he cute!

So one night, we are out on a double date...and as dates sometimes do, especially when you are with a couple that have been together awhile, we found ourselves parked in one of those places young couples like to go to ummmm...well....yanno...get to know each other better.
(no...we were good girls...but we did like to kiss boys a little)

ANYWHO...as we sat there, listening to the music, inquiring about all the other cars parked in the vicinity and who might be in them on this fine evening, she turns to me from the front seat and proceeds to speak to me in French.....


We had just completed our second year of this beautiful language in high school, and loved to have our own private conversations about those things teenage girls like to talk about but don't want parents or siblings or other friends to know...
We did it all the time.

She asks me..."don't you think he's cute?" to which I of course reply, "oui!"
We then go on to start discussing things about him as best we can with our limited language, and giggle and squeal as 16 year old girls are prone to do.

After a few minutes of this, her guy turns around to his cousin, in the backseat with me, and says, "I hate it when they do this to me...they love to torture me like this."

My guy, very calmly sitting there, says back, "Yeh....but I always knew those 4 years of French I took would come in handy someday."




If you have a true story to share, link it up at Once Upon a Miracle's page.