Tu veux aller avec nous pour une verre?

I think those words are the most terrifying things I have ever heard. As if it's not bad enough that I work with seven chain smokers (all except for lone Herve, the token male, smoke) and they invite me to gather round the coffeemaker with them, but they invited me to go get a drink tonight. I realize that this is NOT A BIG DEAL, but mentally I went berserk. I know in America it is not big deal... order a Coke, pour it in a class, and pretend it is a double-malt something or other. But wine is such a huge cultural thing here and alcohol in general, much like the whole smoking thing. Anyway, I tried to make excuses but really, I do like my fellow interns so I went along.

I got a mediocre, overpriced, tiny bottle of some kind of apple juice. And apparently there is an unspoken rule that everybody has to finish their drinks at the same time... so being with four alcohol drinkers, I sat there playing with my straw and sucking the same three sips in and out of the straw for twenty minutes. It was nice to be with people, but a little awkward. Ever polite, nobody said a thing about my not drinking alcohol. The place we went to was called Charlie Birdie (I am guessing for Charles Parker, but I don't know), a brewpub of sorts, and they had this terrible French pop music blasting. Understanding French is difficult enough when people are talking slowly, clearly and without extraneous noise. As you can imagine, I was leaning halfway onto everybody's laps to just to hear them talk. It was an amusing experience, if nothing else.

As a side note, I am fascinated by a few things with French food. I didn't realize I was being a smidge vulgar when I popped the tab of my Coke Zero and started drinking straight from the can. Here, you are supposed to gingerly pour a bit of a time into a flimsy plastic cup they give you, probably considering it a small concession to give me a cup after getting TWO EUROS for a can of Coke Zero. Also, a fruit cup is considered "a dessert," and is priced as such (at least at the places I have eaten lunch here by the Champs). Also, said fruit is consumed with a tiny spoon utterly ill-suited to pick up anything but the most airy of sorbets. I watch my co-workers struggling to scoop up the fruit, outrageously huge in proportion to what's really a coffee spoon, and I want to say, "JUST STAB IT HONEY!"

Let's see... other than that, I am neck-deep in French tax code and have to use a dictionary every other word just to understand what the stupid thing means. It's a good thing that I am free labor and they cannot complain too much, because I know I would never be able to do this "for real." I am not making very fast progress with my project, and I am barely getting over my major insecurities about asking the simplest of questions. I don't understand anything about the French legal system, and I seriously spent two hours on WikiFrance trying to figure out how the heck this monster works.

But trying to be positive, here is a brief list of things I have learned:
1. Good support staff is quite literally the only way I am going to not completely fail in this internship. To be able to walk into a room of kind, intelligent, experienced document specialists with a chicken-scratched list of search terms and to get help to find something that remotely resembles something usable is well... about the biggest feeling of relief I have ever felt.
2. My mentor here at B&M isn't going to pay any attention to me because it isn't his job. If I need help, there is a very well-organized support structure to keep me from toppling over.
3. I now know how to say "tax exempt non-profit agency" in French. Pretty cool, huh?
4. I have kick-butt co-workers (the other interns) who don't mind if I yell for the translation of a word or two from the other room. They come to me and ask for help with their English skills and very generously return the favor.
5. I have access to an unlimited quantity of free hot chocolate, available at the press of a button. This is a life-saver when we are gathered around said machine and I am the only one not drinking a double macchiato.

All right, till next time!