Well maybe thenewgreen and I are really really close and were in a very emotional conversation ;) Seriously, I really appreciate this. Nuances such as this are not always found in beginner books. It's exciting (and of course extremely frustrating at times) to work out the oddities of French. Now's the time to work out kinks before I accidentally offend. Is there a formal replacement for mon pote? Would you just skip the phrase? Would ma poteau be the female equivalent? Or is it mes poteau for plural? Still have a bit of trouble with gender and endings
No formal for "mon pote". French, french Canadian (if someone from Quebec can confirm) and most french speaking African would skip the "my friend". I guess in a post mail (people still write those) you can use it, but it's very old fashioned. That how I imagine the Princess of Cleve would begin a letter to Voltaire: "Voltaire, mon ami, c'est fantastique d'être ici, à Paris". I guess the point is: if it's really your friend, you can use the informal "mon pote". ("poteau" is the original term that was shortened in "pote" and became the most used one) I dont want this to be a lecture on French. It's just, reading your post, It come to my mind, that french really are adverse to intimate speaking with stranger. And everybody admit, even when we all hate you, that Americans are very kind to strangers. So keep saying "mon ami" to whoever you want. French should change their cold way of speaking :)
Huh thats interesting, I'm sure those are carryover from the US. It seems like every other word I hear from some of my coworkers is "bro". I never really thought about how odd of a word pot is for slang. I looked it up, it seems the leading theory is that it orginates from the spanish "potación de guaya"(shortened to potiguaya), or "drink of grief". A wine or brandy steeped with Marijuana.
Well I certainly will continue to spread our friendship freely. It seems especially appropriate after this weekends victory and festivities. Nothing brings the US together like a win. Even if it's a sport no one pays attention to until we're champions. I visited Paris once a long time ago. It's funny, the stereotypes did not seem to hold any ground. I met nothing but kindness. Maybe some good ol' American charm rubbed off? I must admit the Princess of Cleve reference is lost on an educated lad such as myself. It appears I have some French literature homework.