My Friend Muncie

This is Serge's response to my post about him.

I would like to tell you about Muncie, my first conversation partner. She is an American woman that I met on a website that helps people find partners online in order to practice a foreign language.

It has been two years since we began talking together. We are used to talking at least twice a week. To say the least, she is particularly talkative or if you prefer, she chats like a magpie!! Of course I am kidding! I do appreciate our conversations. Muncie is such a nice person who is always in a good mood. We are used to teasing each other but we never argue, whatever the issues are.

I still remember our first chat. In turn, we introduced ourselves and described our families, our houses, the cities we live in and so on. Thanks to her, I have learned a lot about American society and American culture.

Her husband Jon works in a company that builds planes, the kind of planes that rich American businessmen use to travel across the United States to sign contracts with other rich American businessmen in order to make a lot of money. American people like making money. American people also are extreme workaholics. In France, we are the best in the world for working less than thirty-five hours per week, being on vacation for two weeks every two months and for going on strike all the other days!

Muncie has got one son and three daughters. Her son married three months ago. I bet Muncie she will become a grandmother before I will. Of course she laughed, but she obviously knows I will win.

Muncie doesn’t like her name. She told me that it is a very weird and uncommon name for an American girl. To me it is a beautiful name. It is no stranger than Bob, Priscilla, John, Mary or George W… No… no… no! In fact, George W. is not a good example. Let’s forget it!

In Muncie’s personal website, you can read a lot of excellent essays about her city Albuquerque, her family and her daily life. She also wrote something that arguably could be the best article she has ever written! On one hand, it is because she wrote it in French and on the other, because she talked about an exceptional figure, a French man called Serge. Take what I say with a grain of salt, but I think he is her best friend.

Muncie’s writing style is quite unique! Her youngest daughter Holly probably got her talent from her mother. I recently read a story she wrote while she was on summer vacation. Her novel is as fascinating as Harry Potter’s adventures! Rebecca, who is nineteen years old, must be a very studious. Sometimes, when I ask Muncie about grammar rules, she requires help from Rebecca, who always knows the answer. Muncie’s elder daughter studies at a university in order to become a pharmacist. Once, Muncie sent me a photo of Maureen and her boyfriend. I didn’t dare tell Muncie that I found they did not match very well. In my opinion, Maureen looks very attractive, whereas her boyfriend looks a little bit overweight. I think they since have broken up, but after all, it is not my business.

Now, let’s talk about her son Tyler. Tyler is a courageous man. He spent two years in the Philippine Islands as a missionary for his church. He learned the native language there, and I understand he now speaks Tagalog fluently. During his stay, he could only talk by phone to his mother twice a year. I think it was at Christmas and on his mother’s birthday!

This family doesn’t look like the stereotype of the American family. Everybody knows that the stereotype of the American family resembles the Simpson family that lives in Springfield (I have absolutely no idea which state this town is in because there are forty cities in the United States called Springfield!)
Obviously Muncie’s family has nothing to do with the Simpsons. Although, Muncie reminds me a little bit of Marge Simpson, no once again I am kidding Muncie, but I know she will forgive me. We are such good friends that nothing could make us get angry!

Eventually, I hope that someday I will have the good fortune to see Muncie in person. I would be very disappointed if my dream never came true.