Essay on Synopsis Of The Eiffel Tower
The gift shop was just as magnificent, and just as expensive. I decided on getting myself a poster of Winged Victory of Samothrace, and a couple more knick-knacks to take home to friends.
When I got to the check-out counter, gifts and card at the ready, I said my temporarily-engrained “bonjour,” and then “merci,” as the worker scanned the items and set them in a bag. As she handed me the receipt, she started speaking in what I considered to be rapid French.
“Ffgiwfakvkvasd cinq sdfdadfasghkete deux srgfasftegsrf…”
In the jumbled frenzy of syllables, I thought I might have hear a few couple recognizable words, but beyond that I knew nothing. My four rather useless years of high school Spanish were even less use here, even though the languages all belong in a similar category.
All I could think of…