I am not sure how it happened, I have theories, but it appears that I have lost the ability to go and just order food. I pace back and forth down the Rue Saint-Denis, looking longingly at the crepe man, hoping to hear "hey you, yes you, American girl, come get yourself a crepe." I mean, maybe he did say that, but since it was in French, I immediately tucked my head, stared at a building, pretended to be extremely attentive to my dog and made a beeline for the blue door of 8 Rue du Cygne. So let's explore the theories.
Theory 1: They all know that I am here for more than a week, how dare I not speak fluent French.
Ok, so this is a stretch, but there is this element of guilt involved in knowing that you have decided to take residence in a country where you have no knowledge of the language. When I traveled here in 2004 I didn't actually care that I didn't speak French because I was only here for 8 days. I am not one to need help navigating a city, I can read a map and I am pretty confident that near every subway entrance there will be one for the reading. So, without this need for human interaction, I can usually fly under the radar for quite sometime. Museums are safe, entrance fee on the ticket window, quiet enforced on my little safe haven inside. But, a girl has to eat. Herein lies the terror. It isn't as if I don't know what I want, the menus are generally translated into English. It is the three seconds of complete confusion that is the entrance into the restaurant or the walk up to the crepe man. What the hell did they just say to me? The annoyance of having to admit my stupidity and be "just another American that can't speak this language and assumes that everyone speaks English" is just too much. I simply can't do the dumb stare anymore. I don't want to be the dumb American. I love Paris, this country, the continent, the world. I understand that it is unrealistic for me to fluently speak all languages, but I chose to live here, so this is really my bad for poor planning. Guilt, guilt and more guilt!
Theory 2: You don't have a job, you can't afford to eat crepes.
This is for realz, I have no income, so my love of overpriced coffee and pastries was the first thing to go. I stare at people calmly sipping their tiny espressos, and though I envy their ability to sit in sunny cafe seats, I don't envy the small quantity of beverage they have purchased. I need coffee, and lots of it, especially if there is a delicious crepe in accompaniment. I am sure it isn't posh to shoot your espresso tequila style, then demand another maintenant. And so it is, I just stare, keep walking my dog, and hit up the Monop! I suppose the upside of this is that I am saving money and "cooking" for myself.
Theory 3: I lost my balls.
Now this one hurts. Could it be that I just lost that fearless traveler thing right when I need it the most? I mean I traveled to Indonesia alone for Pete's sake and I didn't even (and still don't) know how to say "hello" in their language! This one gets a big WTF! I have little pep talks with myself before I leave, try tactics like putting money in my pocket before heading out with the dog, even google translate "may I please order a crepe with butter, sugar and banana?" Still, I duck and run. How did this happen? I ordered a crepe and coffee while exploring Paris the first go round and even have a picture to prove it. I wasn't sent to the firing squad then, so why would I be now?
In conclusion, there is really no rational reason for this new fear. I need to get it together, get off of the guilt train, pick my balls up at the ticket counter and get out there and order a freaking 3 Euro crepe.
I think I'll do it in another arrondissement...
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