When the pretty girl returned with more drinks, Phil said that he was starving. He then looked at the girl, and smiling at her, he launched into conversation with her.
“Can we eat here, sweetheart?” he enquired, as Clare looked on. This, she thought, was going to be fun. The girl shrugged her shoulders, as she struggled to understand what Phil was saying.
“Eat,” he repeated, motioning with his hands that he was cutting imaginary food with a knife and fork.”
“Ah, mais oui,” replied the girl, smiling at the tattooed beast, before putting on her best English accent. “’ere we ‘ave some fine foodz. What does it you want?”
“Yeah!” replied Phil excitingly. “We’re getting there. Have you got any cheeseburgers?”
Clare burst out laughing. “Oh, Phil and his cheeseburgers. How lovely.”
“Comment?” replied the girl. “What is this cheezburgers?”
“You know,” said Sarah. “C H E E S E B U R G E R S.”
“Oh, mais non,” said the girl, registering at last what a cheeseburger was. “’ere we ‘ave steak and frize or just a sandweech.”
Extract taken from "But Bloody France!" & "Clare's Holiday" - a tale about friends on holiday in deepest Normandy, where there's not a cheeseburger in sight.
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