Greetings dear friends coffee lovers, this is my participation in the #SPILLTHEBEANS CONTEST 6 for which I want to take the opportunity to invite friends @karelysk89

"The Coffee Shop Scene" Reunion in Paris

  After winning a contest to visit the best coffee shops in the world with all expenses paid, I arrived at Charles de Gaulle airport in the city of Paris in France, so I began my adventure in a beautiful country, but with very close people who do not exactly like to talk.

  My trip took place in wintertime, so the cold in the streets was overwhelming, and the snow began to fall, we were at -10 degrees which for me, coming from a tropical country, is devastating. The walk started near the well-known gardens of the Champs-Élysées, it was a real pleasure to walk through them in search of the oldest coffee shop in Europe, my paper map barely served me as a guide in that city so different, with a language so strange to my ears and my way of speaking.

  French, as perhaps many knows, has pronunciations that must be made using the nose, which I am not at all accustomed to, since I hardly use this part of my body to breathe, that's how even the good morning doesn't come out well when I say "Bonjour" as a term pronouncing something similar to yogurt. Fortunately, for me, walking the streets of Paris would not be a major problem once I arrived at the cafeteria, because there I would have a very special reunion with a great friend from the university, who currently works as a tour guide.

  The façade of Notre Dame, the most famous gothic cathedral in the world, announced to me that I was very close to my meeting place, so I hurried my pace to advance a few streets and discover, after turning a corner, the fabulous Café Procope, founded in 1686, upon entering I joined the long line of people waiting to place an order, while I recurrently practiced inside my head, how to order a coffee and a croissant.

  The moments seemed endless, the line moved slowly, while I kept looking at the clock, thinking about the reunion with my friend who still did not arrive, nor did she communicate.

  With nothing else to do but wait, I armed myself with great patience to continue waiting, at the same time that my nerves made my hands sweat despite the intense cold, feeling frankly intimidated to be among so many unknown people, without even understanding a bit of what they were talking around me, which even made me feel strange, imagining that they looked at me contemptuously for being a foreigner.

  The closer I got to the cash register where they were taking my order, the more I realized that the gentleman attending had the classic French look, with an elongated face, profiled nose, and refined beard, he looked quite bitter, something that fueled my fear of being rejected when it was my turn, as the disturbing man cursed loudly at every moment, insulting the employees behind him.

  Moving away from that world, I continued my extended monologue repeating my order to myself trying to communicate it correctly, until I arrived in front of the dispatch box, where this gentleman pointed at me with a sharp inquisitive look and a fake smile, saying words I didn't understand. Confused, I looked around trying to find a menu with pictures, but there was nothing nearby, nor any advertising to point to, so I took a deep breath and recited my order for a coffee and a croissant hoping he would understand me, to no apparent avail.

  The man kept silent and raised his hands while shaking his head from side to side in a sign of denial, to start speaking very fast in French without me being able to understand anything, then he signaled me by opening and closing his hands for me to repeat the order a second time.

  With my tongue a little shaky from my speaking disaster, I said my order a second time, while I heard behind me people talking loudly, apparently annoyed by the delay I was causing. The coffee maker listened by putting a hand to his ear trying to understand, but after I finished my words, he let out a big scream looking up at the ceiling, raising his hands in anger, then he beat against the floor a cloth he was carrying on his shoulder and started kicking it, like a child throwing a tantrum, something that was very unpleasant and made me completely self-conscious, before I could say anything else.

  Suddenly, he calmed down and stared at me again, he made a disturbing smile and approached my face, indicating to me with a gesture to tell him my order for the third time, but this time he tried to communicate so that I would do it slower, while I did not even know what to do, so I repeated it slower, to which the gentleman responded with a laugh, hitting hard the counter in front of me with his open hand.

  But the surprise came, when someone hugged me laughing also to say welcome to Paris. It was my friend I was supposed to meet who orchestrated a joke on me with her husband Pier, who was the manager of that cafeteria, knowing that I was very bad at the French language.

Thank you for reading

This is an Original Story written by @susurrodelmisterio for Hive.

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