People often say to me: "Do you know what I missed? Last February's edition of the satirical magazine, The Spanner. I heard page 23 was particularly good."
Honestly.

Humorous incidents abroad: part the third
Language barriers are a cheap source of humour, but this is a mean-spirited blog. And no one reads it anyway (bastards).

In a hotel in France, a middle-aged man approaches the bar. He orders an Orangina (this is France, remember). The barmaid hands him his drink. In French, she asks for his room number. He does not understand. She asks in English and he is equally uncomprehending. She embarks on an energetic process of elaborate body language. She gesticulates, mimes holding a key.
'Orangina,' he says.
She performs a rather impressive mime. Take key from pocket, place in lock, twist key, push door.
'Orangina,' he reaffirms.

My girlfriend joins the confused conversation.
'Deutsch?' she enquires.
'Orangina,' he replies.

I have determined by now that the man is either:
a) Spanish
b) An alien, or
c) Somehow intoxicated on fizzy orange.

I produce my room key, which is in fact a plastic card. Its cardboard pouch contains our room number. I point to it. The number is 45. The man / alien has now established that a number is being sought. He gives a little nod of faint recognition.

'Uno,' he says, not a little defensively.
He thinks I was suggesting that he had ordered 45 bottles of Orangina. The barmaid is exasperated. She resumes her game of charades, miming sleeping. He appears to interpret this as some kind of slight on his masculinity. He walks over to his table and returns to the bar with a glass of whiskey.

'Orangina y whiskey,' he elaborates.
'It doesn't matter,' says the barmaid.

Unkindly, the barmaid, my girlfriend and I burst into laughter. Alienman
doesn't seem to mind. He just scored a free Orangina.