From Frommer’s With Love

For our recent trip to Paris, I picked up a copy of Frommer’s French PhraseFinder & Dictionary as a backup in case my passable French skills failed me. Boy am I glad I did, otherwise Ashley and I may have accidentally misinterpreted the noise coming from the neighbor above our rental apartment one morning for a homicide in progress. Luckily, Frommer’s “Getting Intimate” section features such helpful translations as:

That’s it!: Oui, comme ça! (Wee kohm sah)
More!: Continue comme ça! (Koh~-tee-nue kohm sah)
Harder!: Plus fort! (Plue ohr)
Faster!: Plus vite! (Plue veet)

And thus we were saved from mistakenly calling emergency services and causing much embarrassment to both ourselves and the couple in question.

I was actually quite surprised with the inclusion of this guidance in Frommer’s. It’s a nice piece of foresight on their part and it certainly goes above and beyond the usual “can you tell me where to find the train station” phrases you expect in these types of guides. These guys have thought of everything someone on the prowl in France might require, including pickup lines:

Excuse me, may I buy you a drink?: Pardon, puis-je vous offrir une verre? (Pahr-doh~ pwee-zhuh voo-zoh-freer uh~ vayhr)
You’re very attractive: Tu es très jolie (Tueh ay tray zhoh-ee)

Practical phrases like:

May I come inside?: Puis-je entrer? (Pwee-zhuh aw~-tray)
Let me help you out of that: Laissez-moi l’enlever pour toi (Leh-say mwah law~-luh-vay poohr twah)

Less obvious, but no less important, “I’d like to avoid a ‘Crying Game‘ type surprise please” phrases:

You don’t have anything you want to tell me first, do you?: Y a-t-il quelque chose dont tu voudrais me parler? (Yah-teel kehl-kuh shohz doh~ tueh voo-dray muh pahr-lay?)
Let’s just be friends: Soyons amis, sans plus (Swah-yoh~-zah-mee saw~ plues)

And for those lucky enough to undertake the same performance given by our neighbours (see above), the inevitable awkward kiss-off phrases whose meaning transcend language:

I’m sorry I have to go now: Je suis désolé, je dois m’en aller maintenant (Zhuh swee day-zoh-lay zhuh dwah maw~-nah-lay meh~t-naw~)
I have to work early tomorrow: Je dois me lever tôt pour mon travail (Zhuh dwah muh leh-vay toh poohr moh~ tra-vie)

Combined with the “full list of body parts” (page 126), Frommer’s provides everything required to be a modern Casanova. Or at least the French equivalent.

Joyce Park’s Dark Secret

Dear Joyce Park (aka Troutgirl):

We’ve had our differences in the past – between my constant un-RSVP’d appearances at 106 Miles, or my continued insistence that I am still relevant despite ‘betraying’ engineering for product management – but Saturday changed everything. There, in the company of your Renkoo brethren, you spoke the words I’ve longed to hear:

Boy, Renkoo really needs a product manager! I mean, I never realized there was all this stuff that needed to be taken care of! We need someone to venga-ize us!

At first, I thought you were joking. Or drunk (Lord knows it sounds like you were making words up). Or possibly both. I knew those words would never easily escape your lips, at least not without the assistance of some light bondage and a car battery. But the sincerity, the exasperation with which those words were spoken made me realize you were serious.

Although I had wondered about your Herculean intake of tequila over the course of the evening, I now understand what you were doing: steeling your nerves for this scandalous admission. I just want to let you know, privately, how much I appreciate this validation. Product Management’s a tough gig, and most engineers don’t get it because they can’t measure it in lines of cleanly encapsulated, syntactically pure code. We take the requirements from the customers to the engineers. That’s our jobs. We have people skills dammit!

Your confession is appreciated – it’s always good to know someone “gets it”. If only every engineer understood this, and I wish you would tell them all – but don’t worry: the secret of your admiration for Product Managers everywhere is safe with me. I wouldn’t dare speak a word of it – who would believe me? I mean, I could plaster it on the Internet, complete with a photo or two of the moment, (the blogosphere will believe anything), but putting this out there would just be…tacky. 😉

Sincerely,

Brendon J. Wilson