Loic gracefully accepts the medal, sets down his drink, puts on his reading glasses and examines it more carefully.
“What a kind gesture and such a lovely medal. I will make sure it is displayed in a place of honor. Please thank Tilapia, er, the people of Tilapia for me.”
Loic winces as he realizes how awkward that sounded. He takes out his handkerchief, which is clean, and carefully wraps up the coin, and places it in an inside pocket in his jacket, then take off his reading glasses.
“I perfectly understand that the Ambassador did not feel up to coming to both functions. I look forward to paying him a visit at the embassy on what will hopefully be a less somber occasion. If that is the case, it will be a happy union of duty and pleasure. Perhaps I will see you then, if your duties chance to have you in Eutopia City at that time.”
Loic shakes Vincent’s hand.
“The speech I gave was my own, but the memorial service was conducted with the blessing of the cabinet, so there are some other people in the UPE with which Tilapia should be able to work, not just me. What I said about Señor Vasquez was the truth. Everyone deserves that much. He was Eutopian for most or all of his life. It seems a bit presumptuous of people from the UPE to persist on referring to themselves as Eutopian. Admittedly, United Provincians doesn’t roll off the tongue, and “yoops” sounds derogatory. But Eutopian should be reserved for the island, like European applies to the continent. We are in no position to copy the cultural hegemony of the United States in claiming all of two continents in calling themselves Americans, while not applying to the same to Canadians, Mexicans, or Brazilians. But there I go babbling on. Did you have you have a chance to express your condolences to Miss Mulhoney? It looked like she needed a shoulder to cry on.”
Loic makes his way towards the exit, stopping frequently for a word with FLEA agents or ministry staff.
“What a kind gesture and such a lovely medal. I will make sure it is displayed in a place of honor. Please thank Tilapia, er, the people of Tilapia for me.”
Loic winces as he realizes how awkward that sounded. He takes out his handkerchief, which is clean, and carefully wraps up the coin, and places it in an inside pocket in his jacket, then take off his reading glasses.
“I perfectly understand that the Ambassador did not feel up to coming to both functions. I look forward to paying him a visit at the embassy on what will hopefully be a less somber occasion. If that is the case, it will be a happy union of duty and pleasure. Perhaps I will see you then, if your duties chance to have you in Eutopia City at that time.”
Loic shakes Vincent’s hand.
“The speech I gave was my own, but the memorial service was conducted with the blessing of the cabinet, so there are some other people in the UPE with which Tilapia should be able to work, not just me. What I said about Señor Vasquez was the truth. Everyone deserves that much. He was Eutopian for most or all of his life. It seems a bit presumptuous of people from the UPE to persist on referring to themselves as Eutopian. Admittedly, United Provincians doesn’t roll off the tongue, and “yoops” sounds derogatory. But Eutopian should be reserved for the island, like European applies to the continent. We are in no position to copy the cultural hegemony of the United States in claiming all of two continents in calling themselves Americans, while not applying to the same to Canadians, Mexicans, or Brazilians. But there I go babbling on. Did you have you have a chance to express your condolences to Miss Mulhoney? It looked like she needed a shoulder to cry on.”
Loic makes his way towards the exit, stopping frequently for a word with FLEA agents or ministry staff.