My first Pierre

Thanks to my French buddies Louis and Thomas, I've been learning a lot of useful French. For example:

Baver= to drool
Roter=to burp
Péter=to fart

Thomas invited my main meuf  Missy and me to his family's home in Nevers for the weekend. I'm always happy as a clam to be invited into the French inner sanctum, but I got really pumped when Thomas revealed that his dad's name is Pierre. He's the first Frenchy I've met with the most stereotypical of French names, so I was really eager to impress him.

We stopped off at Pierre's wine shop when we got into town and he offered to let us taste a bottle of delicious Chinon. About a glass and a half in, I remembered that it had been awhile since I'd eaten, which explained the uncontrollable giggles spilling out of me. The harder I tried to stop the more I laughed, to the point where I was beet red and wiping tears from my eyes. I was so embarrassed to be in this state of drunkeness in front of my first Pierre.

Pierre looked at me with amusement and asked, "T'es pétée?" I turned an even deeper shade of burgundy and said, "Non! J'ai pas pété!" Thomas laughed and told me in English, "It's OK. You don't have to hold it in." I was shocked. "J'en jure! J'ai pas pété!"

When Pierre went to change the music, I leaned over to Missy and whispered, "Why do they think I farted?" She busted a gut and relayed to Thomas what I had just asked.

Apparently "être pété" means "to be drunk." Oh. Sorry Pierre.