I have somehow marked myself out as the class weirdo. Today I accidentally announced that I sometimes wore lace and nobody seemed surprised.
I am also the worst french speaker in the class. Seeing the look of despair on those poor teenagers faces as I spend 20 minutes attempting to explain why I like pizza is heartbreaking. When the last person into the classroom realises the only empty seat is on my table they'll often let out an audible gasp. At least I'm improving their punctuality.
I'd imagine being in a french language class with me is as irritating as being trapped in a room with a man telling you a never ending run of misremembered jokes. Except I've been punctuating my attempts at french language with misremembered jokes so it's worse.
Tomorrow is our last day at french language school. I may be wrong but I think I saw them taking in a delivery of fireworks.