So, yesterday I went out with an Egyptian-Italian** guy. We went to a cafe and had some Coke (me) and mint tea (him) before my French class, and then the plan was to go get Lebanese food after my class was over.
But, poor guy, all things conspired against him, and one thing after another went wrong. So, we ended up at a random sandwich/crepe joint in the Bastille area. Ending up at a sandwich shop didn't bother me in the least.
What DID bother me was that he told me I could choose anything I wanted, and then when I picked a ham sandwich with egg slices and vegetables, he asked me if I was sure I didn't want a salad.
Ummm. Yeah, I'm sure. I saw the salads, and I don't want one.
Me: No, a sandwich is good.
Him: You're sure? You could get a sandwich and a salad...
Me: No, I'm fine.
Him: You're sure? Salads are really good for you.
Me: No way, really? I'm 28 years old for crying out loud. I know what salads are. I know they are good for me. But I'm really [insert favorite (pseudo)swear] sure I don't want a salad. (Okay, so this part happened in my head. But if I spoke French well enough he would have felt the burn of my sassy sarcasm.)
Me: (Out loud) No, I'm fine with a sandwhich. *Encouraging smile.*
And he ordered a panini. No salad.
Stay tuned for more awkward conversation snippets.
*This post is obviously not intended to portray Egyptians, Italians, or sandwich joints in a negative light. I'm absolutely not inferring that this is a widespread character flaw in people of any culture, I'm just talking about this one person.
**Who, as it turns out, ended up being Algerian. He told me he was Egyptian-Italian because he thought I would think he was a terrorist. Ummm... okay.