cNutgroist

Taxi, fri night, 2 big french guys and I going back to mine for a little smoke and drinky. One of them turns to me and says something, in his thick french accent, mildly dismissive of France, in the way that is acceptable for a native but would be considered rude if it were a foreigner's opinion of his country. Mr Taxi Driver* pops up

'Oi tell yer what, oi don trost d fockin franch, deyll slit yer troat d minute yer torn yer back, y'know?'

We three look at eachother in one of those classic 'Did he just say what i thought he said?' moments and, afraid that my compadres will simultaneously teach him a lesson and prove him right, I say very quickly 'well if you hate them so much you'd better get us home quick because two out of three of us ARE French'

and he says

"Franch? Oh FRANCH! Oh yeah, oi luv d franch. Great fellas d franch. Charles de Gaulle, my koind o' man, sure. Best food in d world, best looking gorls, oi'd say. Beautiful language...er..Where'd we be without d franch?"

then it's deja vu and not for the first time as we three look again at eachother and wonder consider this stunning volte-face. And then it's time to get out so my french friends pay the fare and tip him big, just because.



*it is my experience that dublin taxi drivers, much as i respect them more than london ones, have no ear for accents and will always ask 'where are yous from then?' even if you step in the taxi dressed as Napoleon whilst cooking garlic and onions, humming The Marseillaise and contemplating 'working with' the Germans
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