[A French businessman walks up to the front desk.]
Bonjour, monsieur. Vous êtes français? Vous parlez français?
[Translation: "Hello, sir. Are you French? Do you speak French?"]
No, sorry.
Mais vous avez un accent français. Vous parlez pas français?
[Translation: "But you have a French accent. Don't you speak French?"]
Sir, I'm just a simple country boy from Texas. I do not understand this "français" business you're babbling about.
Pardon.
[Lorelai takes Michel aside.]
He knows you are not from Texas.
Smile when you say that.
Michel, I told you there would be a French group here for a couple of days, and it's your job to keep them happy.
Lorelai, I don't know how many French people you've met over the years, but most of them are insufferable.
[sarcastically] Really?
Mm. That is why I left France.
Huh. I thought it had something to do with the torches and the villagers. Michel, talk to them.
Never.
[He turns away from Lorelai. She just glares at him.]
You are giving me that look, aren't you? Your patented "Do it or something unspeakable shall befall you" look. [pause, sighs] Fine, I shall be French, but I shall not be happy.
Then you will be yourself. Good choice.
