What I think will happen when I sign up for Luxembourgish classes

After five years of being here, I’ll take the nationality test and score 110%, the highest mark ever. The result will be so astounding that the language school will insist that I replace my actual tea

I won’t lie. I’m rubbish at languages. In our exchange with a French school, my French was so bad, I forced the French kids to speak English. I was so bad that I thought “nul points” was French for “Fuck off”. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve been laughed at for using it incorrectly.

But this time it’s going to be different. When I sign up for Luxembourgish language classes I will be deeply motivated to learn and immersed in the culture, so full mastery is assured. 

I know exactly how this is going to pan out. The first lesson, we’ll start with “my name is…” and, because I’ll do my homework every day, three times, I’ll nail naming everyone in my house by the end of the first week, including the housemate who hasn’t been around for a while. By week two, I’ll be able to name every room and piece of furniture in the house, including a full description of the weird smell in our cellar. 

By week three I’ll be writing my shopping list in Luxembourgish and cracking jokes with the pretty cashier at Cactus. Pretty soon, I’ll progress to pillow talk with her and her Luxembourgish sisters. 

By the end of the first semester I’ll have completed courses A1 through to C and will be able to spell correctly, unlike Luxembourgers who grew up here. 

Women will be suckers for my charming accent, which I will exaggerate because, of course, I’ll have mastered Luxembourgish and can pass myself off as a real Luxembourger, if I wanted to. 

After five years of being here, I’ll take the nationality test and score 110%, the highest mark ever. The result will be so astounding that the language school will insist that I replace my actual teacher. 

To celebrate my new nationality, I’ll take a new name, The Duke. 

I’ll get a tattoo of the Gelle Fra over my heart. 

To maintain my excellent level of Luxembourgish I’ll read RTL daily and post baiting comments under every article. 

Editors will be so impressed with my comments they’ll invite me to write for RTL and present the news on TV.

I’ll marry a good Luxembourgish girl and then get divorced and then marry an Eastern European woman who definitely won’t be a trophy bride. 

I’ll get a job with the government, gain 20 kilos from my two-hour lunch breaks and crack jokes with the woman at reception about not being able to see my penis. 

As a shining example of good integration, I’ll join a local political party which has strong views on integration and pet ownership. 

I’ll run for election but decide to quit following a disagreement about how to correctly spell “animals” in Luxembourgish. 

I’ll take up triathlon with my neighbours, Jempy and Jos. I’ll lose 30 kilos and we’ll enter Iron Man contests together. 

Then I’ll get injured, buy a Harley which I’ll drive to work every day at the prime minister’s office, which is my office, because I’ll be the prime minister.

That’s definitely what will happen when I sign up for Luxembourgish. Or I could learn Spanish?