I was sitting near the back of the American Airlines flight from Brussels to the US. By the time the flight attendant reach me, he had run out of US Customs forms in English.
"Do you know French or Dutch?" He asked.
"No." I answered.
"Just English..."
I interrupted, "No, If you had the forms in Spanish or Serbian..."
He handed me the French forms; I figured I could use the 9 hours of the flight to decode it. Especially since I thought I learned French by osmosis in October.
One of the things I was looking forward to about returning to the US was being able to negotiate bureaucracy in a language I understand. I suppose that wasn't yet to be.
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