Language Limitation

At the brasserie I sit and listen to 3 or 4 conversations in French.
It’s a bit like being dumb.
I can understand the gist of what they’re saying, but I can’t join in.
Words are precious to me.
My ability to interact in French is so limited.
I am actually ashamed.

“How am I?”
“Well… I’m fine thank you.”
“What would I like for lunch?”
“A chef’s salad and a small red, please.”
“What is Sarah doing?”
“She is having lunch with her mother.”

That’s it for me ..... until later.

“How’s your food?”
“Fantastic.”
“Where are you going now?”
“I’m going up the mountain.”

But what a waste.
I can’t let anyone how I feel.
I can’t ridicule Sarkozy's political arrogance.
More importantly, I can’t explain how the glorious Mediterranean sunlight balancing upon the top of the bombed-out 'deco' hotel, makes me feel glad to be a human being.