A Portrait of Being a French Major

In case you ever wanted to know what being the only French major among your friends is like, read on for a slice of life featuring Me, being bullied because I’m Satan small; Iszi, the wry wife; Madeline, my only loyal Francophile friend; and Pat, the bully teddy bear.

Act I, Scene I: Facebook

Me: Ticket prices dropped so now I’m officially going to Paris!

Iszi: Yay! France HONHONHON

Me: No incorrect that’s not even a word

Iszi: Baguette Eiffel Tower



Me: No incorrect tu as tort

Iszi: Ass tart

Me: What?

Iszi: Ass tart

Me: Non

It’s pronounced “ah tor”



Iszi: NO ASS TART???

Me: No never

Iszi: ;c


Act I, Scene II

Me: Madeline help Iszi’s butchering French

Madeline: Oh my god

Iszi: Ass. Tart.

Madeline: Ur an ass tart


Act II, Scene I: Twitter

Madeline is wisely off-stage, refraining from direct engagement except for liking everything we tweet.

Me: Don’t ever let Iszi take French ft. Madeline

Pat: Le ass tart

Me: I trusted you and this is how u repay me? Get out. (also there’s no such thing as le followed by a)

Pat: Les ass tart

Me: Look here if u wanna try butchering French u gotta commit. Plural definite article, plural noun

Pat: Le ass tart

Me: No vowel vowel bad

Pat: Ls ass tart

Me: Stop this u bully

Iszi: Don’t be an ass tart

Pat: That’s Monsieur Bully to u

Iszi: Honhomhon

Me: Pourquoi vous me torturez comme ça?

Pat: Ja maple


Epilogue: Life Choices

Me, to the audience: Sometimes I question the friend choices I make


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