So, about two months ago, I was standing in the visitor center at the Grottes Préhistoriques de Gargas looking at t-shirts and wondering if my girlfriend would like one. I wasn't the only one there, a group of children probably in the first or second grade were just exiting the attached museum and spilling into the center looking at caveman-centric toys and grabbing at everything that could be grabbed at despite the teacher's protests.
I started to turn away to see if some of the Ticayou: Le Petit Cro-Magnon books were interesting enough to buy. My girlfriend is a comic nut and requested some French comics. I didn't get very far because there was this little boy looking up at me.
He says something like, "Monsieur, où est la salle de bain?"
And I say, "Sorry, I don't speak French."
He gives me a very odd look and repeats his question. I again reply that I don't know what he is asking.
At this point, two more children come over, a boy and a girl. They ask me a question and I again say I know no French.
The first child is now fairly pouting and says something to the others.
The girl says to him, "Il est allemand. Il ne vous comprends pas."
I say, "No. No allemand. American. From Etats-Unis."
The three children all start nodding their heads. They say, almost as one, "Ah. American. Rock et roll."
I say, "Yes. Rock and roll."
They say, "Rock ET roll."
I say, "Rock and roll?"
They say emphatically, "Rock ET--"
One of their teachers comes over and after apologizing to me in French, steers the children off toward their group which is massing at the exit.
They were not the first people to talk to me about Rockets Rolling in France.