If you’re looking for some afternoon reading (besides us, of course), surf on over to The New Yorker, where David Sedaris (pictured), one of our top lit-crushes, has a piece.
Filled with his typical self-aware wit, it recalls his experience as a semi-lingual French Speaker who combats a poor vocabulary by saying D’accord, which translates to ‘okay’, to everyone and everything. So, where does it get him?
Here’s a sample:
It’s funny the things that run through your mind when you’re sitting in your underpants in front of a pair of strangers. Suicide comes up, but, just as you embrace it as a viable option, you remember that you don’t have the proper tools: no belt to wrap around your neck, no pen to drive through your nose or ear and up into your brain.
We’ve ended up nearly nude before strangers more than once, but rarely does suicide cross our minds. That usually comes after we leave.