Fées Maison has now become a bi-weekly event. I go there to meet Ge and Ben and practice my French and their English and I go there with Darryl and Mel to just relax in the calm ambiance of the bar.I normally just nurse a demi-pint of a blond beer for the entire time I am there. But this week I decided to change and go for the dark beer la Bête - and I'll even admit that I chose to change because I liked the color and the name. It ended up being a lot stronger than I expected but somehow I ended up drinking 2 demi-pints last night and found myself giggling a little more than was absolutely necessary.
While I always enjoy going out with friends, last night I found it almost impossible to speak correctly in either French or English. I was always choosing the wrong words, always conjugating incorrectly. But such is life and there are no judgments between friends so I kept going.
Midway through our visit to Fées one of the owners, Maurice, came over with a knife and sausage and sat it down on our table. We must have looked confused, but he told Ge that it was for us and that it was on the house. We hastily said thank you as he walked off.
I only ate one slice of the sausage because I found it a little too potent for my palate, but I was touched by the gesture. It was simple: a 4 euro sausage on the house. It may not have meant much to him to have given it to us, but to me it meant a great deal. I've been to Fées 5 times in the past 3 weeks and always felt comfortable there, exchanging nods and smiles with Maurice and Ione and sipping my beer. This always felt somewhat one-sided. But last night I finally felt that I was welcomed there - that sausage on the table was a gesture, a sign that perhaps I've finally found my place in Nantes.
While I always enjoy going out with friends, last night I found it almost impossible to speak correctly in either French or English. I was always choosing the wrong words, always conjugating incorrectly. But such is life and there are no judgments between friends so I kept going.
Midway through our visit to Fées one of the owners, Maurice, came over with a knife and sausage and sat it down on our table. We must have looked confused, but he told Ge that it was for us and that it was on the house. We hastily said thank you as he walked off.
I only ate one slice of the sausage because I found it a little too potent for my palate, but I was touched by the gesture. It was simple: a 4 euro sausage on the house. It may not have meant much to him to have given it to us, but to me it meant a great deal. I've been to Fées 5 times in the past 3 weeks and always felt comfortable there, exchanging nods and smiles with Maurice and Ione and sipping my beer. This always felt somewhat one-sided. But last night I finally felt that I was welcomed there - that sausage on the table was a gesture, a sign that perhaps I've finally found my place in Nantes.
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