The Citrus Problem

Today, as in about ten minutes ago, I decided that I was in desperate need of a hot drink and a snack. I went with my camarade de class Rachel to our "Stand Up" café, and decided on a coffee drink called "Totally Toffee" and a slice of lemon coffee cake. I do love moist cake. First, I asked the friendly worker behind the counter for a Totally Toffee. She looked at me for a moment, then said, "Ah, un totally tofEE!" Okay, so I said it with an American accent. I usually feel like I'm making fun of the language if I say English words with a French accent, like Steve Martin in the new Pink Panther movie, but the French do it all the time.

I was determined to do better the second time around. The lemon coffee cake was entitled "Cake," so I asked for a piece (the pointing helped), then wanted to confirm that the cake was, indeed, lemon-flavored. Thinking of limonade, a Sprite equivalent, I asked "C'est limon?" The lady just looked at me. I tried again. "Le cake, est-ce que le goût du cake limon?" She stared. Third time's the charm. "Quel est le goût du cake?"

"Ah!" the lady said, "C'est citron."

For the love of great-grandmother's teacups. I had been saying "lemon" with a French accent (and a darn good one, I must say), and thinking I was making good use of my French vocabulry. I genuinely had no idea that I was trying to speak Franglish. Rachel laughed and laughed and laughed, and the lady behind the counter tried really hard not to let me see her smirking at me. It's as if I had walked into a Starbucks and asked for a "citron-flavored cake, please." I'm an idiot.