Here is what I think...

Nightwalking through the crowds after a football match.

Is your face there, DB? Is the car you drive? I can't see through the hordes, but I run because I feel like doing so. I feel safe, running against the crowd (some of them laugh). I wonder if you do this, or if this is not your particular brand of ridiculous. I contemplate the likelihood of me accompanying la petite Francaise into your lessons in the future. Though she'll know more English then, of course... but I thought that if you saw me speaking French, you might just believe that I wasn't as useless as you think I am when I skitter uncontrollably or twitch at the back.

I could explain your favourite phrase. "Une doughnut. C'est un petite gateau- tu as le vu? Avec un trou dans le centre. Comme la femme la bas- il n'ya pas rien dans le centre, pas de cerveau ou personalite. C'est un bon mot, n'est ce pas?"

This is why I am a shit person. I am speaking french, not for edifying purposes... so that she will like me. I like speaking French, and I do it when she is not there (of course), when there is noone to impress. But even so, I dislike that I have planned to impress someone. I am strange and seedy and bizarre in general. I crave her approval; I do not crave the approval of everyone, but from her, yes. From those I like. And I have not won it, nor done anything particular to further my cause, not that I could, being who I am. I might be the only person that likes people different to myself. People who are kind and decent and respected and good, and funny and clever. I can be those, but not like the others are.