Don't chew gum there....

Arrival or Departure, originally uploaded by jjvannorman.

Back in the day, when our company was doing well there was a considerable amount of business travel. Off times it was New Jersey, but now and then it was international travel.

My first trip "across the pond" was Paris of all places. I was sent there to facilitate developing a common way of doing CAD work across the company.

I received a lot of advice before my trip, including NEVER chew gum. This was further substantiated from books I either borrowed or purchased before the trip as I was trying to absorb every cultural detail I could (including my crash course on French). The origins of why the French abhor gum chewing remain elusive to me to this day.

I had a lot of folks who remarked about their experiences with the prickly French; whereas my experience was one of cordial folks, who were amicable with me. I thumbed my way through the phrase book often finding hand gestures, a smack of English with butchered French phrase and a smile was often good enough.

I stayed for two weeks, one week extended with a hope I might be able to see some of tennis from the French Open. The two weeks were filled with museums, wonderful meals, cheap good wine and culture immersion unlike anything I had previously experienced.

One evening offered me several odd and amusing memories. First let me preface something about Parisian restaurants.

Tables in restaurants in Paris are not meant for for those who have personal space issues. Most restaurants there are packed tightly next to one another. Not understanding much French, adjacent table conversations were fortunately for me, white noise. The smoking...well I wont go there.

If you read all those great culture books, i.e. the Idiots guide to Paris you learn that more often then not a restaurant might have an English menu on hand. I would usually ask, in my butchered French . If you're lucky your waitress/waiter will speak some English as well.

One evening I randomly chose this Bistro. After I ordered, a family next to me complemented me -- "You speak excellent English". I had never been complemented on my English before. Not even in high school English class. It might have been the wine, but this was a rare opportunity to have had some fun that I regrettably squandered.

I fessed up I was a Yank. The family was from Germany, the father was an American military officer based in Frankfurt. It was a wonderful evening speaking some English after weeks worth of business French. As this was my second week there I was able to pass along my trip tips.

Oddly enough, that same evening I saw what happens when one chews gum in France. A man walked in for what I assumed was for some carry out. He went to the bar, chewing gum in a manner a bovine would be envious. Well...he might as well have had the plague. No one walked anywhere near 10 feet of him as he chomped away. Then it crept into my head...I couldn't stop it...but it was there...that expression that makes me wince...ugly American.

I was both embarrassed for him and oddly amused. At some point in time, he got up and left.