I had a French one in London who I swear had come straight from Central Casting. My dining companion spoke fluent French, I did not. When I asked a question about the menu he stared down his nose at me as though I'd just crawled out from under a rock and pretended as though he couldn't understand what I was asking about.

Me to friend in a slightly raised voice: You'd think they could at least hire employees who can speak English.

Waiter: Excuse me I can understand you.

Me: I know.

Good times.