Oh mon dieu. There’s someone in the kitchen.
I hear them. They are clanking a cup.
I just heard them cough. Did you hear that?
Oh no. It’s happening again.
Brian is in the kitchen.
Merde, Brian. Why are you always in my kitchen? Porquoi?
I’m walking in, Brian.
Oh yeah. This is great. This is a new level, Brian. Even though you are wearing a shirt that looks like a refrigerator, I can tell you are not actually a refrigerator. First, you are wearing cargo shorts. Second, you have a new style of facial hair that seems post-modern somehow. And you have that strange cough all the time. Why are you coughing so much?
Oh! Quoi? You’re making me an espresso? Okay, fine. You can be in my kitchen.
This time, Brian.
Seriously, I’m on to you. You need to get your own effing kitchen. You can rent them as part of an apartment or you can buy a house or you can just continually stay in airbnbs like I did during a dark period of my life when I had just dropped out of that online med school and I thought I wanted to write a book about crows. I was wrong. Both about online med school and the crows.
Anyway, so, while Brian’s making me a little afternoon espresso, I will tell you about Brian and the kitchen. This is a phrase that French people know. Other people know it too. I think. But, I know it because French people learn English by repeatedly saying the phrase “Brian is in the kitchen” over and over again. At least, this is my understanding of English education in France.
So that’s why the following isn’t an uncommon conversation in Paris or Lyon or possibly even in Montreal:
Jacque Pierre Leclerc: Brian is in the Kitchen.
Me: What? Really! Is he like your friend? Is he making you dinner?
Jacque: Brian is in the kitchen.
Me: Hmm. You seem annoyed at this fact.
JPL: Brian is in the kitchen.
Me: What happened between you and this guy? Is this some kind of bad Tinder experience?
Jacque-attack: Brian is in the kitchen.
Me: I feel like Brian is a metaphor here for your deep internal sadness. Is that right? Man, I should have gone to online psychiatrist school. Damn it. Why did I spend so much time with those crows?
Jacque-strappe: Brian is in the kitchen.
Me (sadly): Yeah. It’s true. It really is. I get it. “Brian” is in the “kitchen.” C’est la vie, mon ami.
I often use this phrase when talking to Vincent. I will be in the kitchen and then loudly say, “Oh no!”
And Vincent will say, “What?” And then I’ll yell, “BRIAN IS IN THE KITCHEN!”
And then Vincent won’t laugh but rather continue to read Le Monde on his cellular telephone.
But, I will laugh. And I will wonder one day what happens if Brian is actually in the kitchen.
I don’t know what I’ll do, but this espresso is delicious. Brian, I can clearly tell you’ve spent a lot of time in the kitchen.