The European Union at Dudes Table.

I'm terrified of my French on the Metro and their French on the bus, so I walk.

An hour and a half later. I get out of a Cab and I see a hungry Dennis, a sight unseen for 14 months. Oddly it was like yesterday, almost unnervingly so, except for the very first moment, I felt like I was meeting him at the Shoe for a Club Wrap and a Beer, except the Shoe was in Paris and an Italian restaurant and he had a girlfriend and no one spoke English. But the Dennis part was an island of familiarity in this crazy ancient fantasy world I climbed into.

Anjte (Dennis's Girlfriend) is speaking German to Mike, Italian to the Waiter, French to Jan and English to Me and throwing in a splash of Spanish for kicks and all of them to Dennis.

Pif: DUDE!

I said that a lot. Hardly English and Uber-north American. The Europeans were fascinated by my semi-coherent exclamations. I thought it was weird to Eat Italian in France, but it's as close to the real Italy as I've ever been so maybe it would be closer to real Italian food. We ate till forever. And there was much rejoicing.

Why can all these people speak all these languages? For shame North America. I felt so lame. Mostly we spoke English, which seems to be the worlds' lowest common denominator, But I wanted to carry on a conversation in one of these secret codes they all knew. I was SO NOT in there super cool European club. I felt like I might as well be an American. ick. not a good feeling.


Today's Song of the Day is "Metropolis" by Kraftwerk off their 1978 album "The Man Machine."

Crazy Fact: Rumour had it that they were robots.

njoy