J'ai tombé

Walking along Rue Saint-Jean with C, we watched a man tumble to the ground while intimately entangled with his bicycle. As we approached, he said, quite calmly, "J'ai tombé." I half expected him to add "and I can't get up," but he didn't. Naturally, I was shocked at his grammar. He ought to have said "Je suis tombé." Avoir is the wrong auxiliary with this intransitive verb.

Similar errors occur in English. My father, for example, will utter such grammatical abominations as "I done steaks last night," in reference to his bar-b-queuing prowess, or "I haven't ate anything today." My sister, similarly grammatically-challenged, often says things like "I seen mom yesterday" and "I should have went to the store."

Naturally, I am familiar with Stuff White People Like, and have no problems admitting that I am guilty of point 99. But, as it turns out, the use of the incorrect auxiliary verb can be found in the Québécoise dialect. Evidently, the lower the socioeconomic status, the greater the likelihood that être will be abandoned in the passé composé of certain verbs of motion. I suppose this man's early evening drunkenness might indicate a certain socioeconomic status, but that is no guarantee.

We helped this man, clearly quite inebriated, to his feet with the assistance of another gent, who inquired after his health. The fallen man, now temporarily on his feet and looking rather wobbly, said "an accident is an accident", but I cannot remember if he said that in English or in French. We continued on our way, leaving the man of unknown socioeconomic status to attempt to cycle while plastered to the gills, as my dad would say.

Around the corner on Rue Cartier, a car ran a red light. A split second later, the police cruiser behind him at the traffic lights flipped on his siren and sped round the corner on the wet pavement, straight into a mature maple tree. I didn't realize that a police car impacting a Québec tree could be so loud. The violator got away clean and the police officer called in for assistance. I wanted to take a photo of his wrecked car, but thought better of it. It was quite impressive, really. One wheel was completely off the car and there were bits of tree everywhere. I was happy not to have been walking too close to that zone.

The third accident was mine: Earlier, I spilled red wine all over my Programme de Poche and my name tag. Of the three accidents that day, this was the most grievous. Wasting wine is a sin.

I know, you are still waiting for photos of dancing librarians, but I still cannot use my laptop. You will just have to wait a while longer.