I'm Not a Spy

I had a dream last night in which I was asking a French railway ticket agent for a round-trip ticket to — where? unclear, though somewhere in France — but that I didn’t know the date of my return. I was asking this in French, which was apparently good enough for the guy to look at me, hard, then sit back and smile. Disconcerted, I assured him that I wasn’t a spy.

This dream is interesting to me because I haven’t been reading, watching, or speaking French at all, though not for want of trying. Taking advantage of VPN, I’m watching the Tour de France either in Spanish or German because the French coverage has changed and in order to watch it in French — which would be my strong preference — I’d have to disable the ad blocker on my browser, which I’m not willing to do. There are also the women’s Euros, which again, I’m watching either in German or Spanish. (I’d watch next Friday’s match in Italian only Italy are playing Spain and, well, I’m rooting for Spain as always.)

The anachronisms in my dream aside — that you’d buy a ticket from a PERSON, that the walls surrounding this person would be dingy cream and the office cluttered with filing cabinets and loose papers, and obviously that a spy might also be a person instead of AI — I think this dream means a) I need to pay more attention to my French, b) I ought to be joining the Resistance. Not a coincidence that the ICE tracker is now the most popular app in the US…