My Mother does not speak one word of French. Not one. I convince her she can do this, order 2 Perriers. No big deal. When I finish my business and arrive, she's grinning form ear to ear. She very proudly announces that she has ordered 2 (by holding up 2 fingers) Pierres. Two Pierres I ask? Oh no, two Perriers she answers and exclaims that the waitress nodded enthusiastically and understood perfectly. Pierres or Perriers, I ask again because two Pierres are definately going to cost more that two Perriers. Look, she tells me, here comes the waitress and sure enough she has two Perriers on the tray she is carrying along with serveral other beverages, but no Pierres in sight.
The two Perriers, the waitress places them deftly on the neighboring table. On our table, she places two beers. Biers ordered by a flustered, southern spoken lady. Hot day, weary shoppers and a couple of Stella's. Life is good and I will forever ask my Mom if she'd like a Pierre.