Last week Englishman Tom Grageingwell went out in the early evening to his territory-neutral local pub in Limpertsberg, and came home at 4 a.m. Luxembourgish.
According to his Irish girlfriend he stumbled in showing a mass of chest hair and uttered a string of low-pitch gruffisms. “I thought maybe he hit his head and had one of those temporary identity changes. He was saying random words, not quite German, not quite French. “
"We watched all the Jason Bourne films that day and he seemed fine, energized even. This morning he was watching BBC News, but quickly switched it off, grabbed his jacket and said ‘Addi’.”
His girlfriend had recently suggested marriage, since Tom’s plan to take Luxembourgish citizenship sank without a trace after two language lessons.
“Not only was I Luxembourgish...” Tom told the Splice, “...when I walked out of that pub I also knew Karate. Just look at the neighbour’s fence.”
“Please don’t tell the Mrs I was speaking the Queens.”
His girlfriend later sighed “He basically fell into nextdoor’s fence. The cat screeched, he shit himself and ran off. Didn’t come back for three more hours.”