Espionage

You know what you just never hear these day? The word espionage. It used to be something that was almost always in the news or in novels.  It never failed to add an element of mystique and danger to a seemingly ordinary detective story.  Nowadays, you never hear about espionage, nor do you ever hear the word used in conversation.

Espionage.

It has a dangerous sound to it, doesn't it?

Espionage.

Yesterday morning at work espionage came up. Marc, our assembly lead, was lurking around a corner, pretending to sneak up on my inbox and plant more work in it for me. He's a funny guy--always putting a little lighthearted weirdness into an otherwise mundane workplace. I looked at him with my head turned slightly away from him--eyes mere slits.

"What are you doing, you sneaky man?" I asked, with a Rick version of a French accent.
"I am a master of espionage." he answered, peeking from around the corner.
"Espionage. Now that is a word of danger... Of spies... A word to impress women with." I continued as he came forth from his pretend hiding place.  "Women melt at the mere mention of the word espionage."

Just then, Elaine walked up.  I turned my head slightly, narrowed my eyes, cocked an eyebrow, and spoke one word.

"Espionage." I said, throwing a little extra French accent into it.
"Espionage." Marc repeated, watching her reaction.

Elaine laughed as she continued walking. I looked at Marc.

"You zee?" I said, while Elaine was still within earshot, "Women love zis word espionage. It is both dangerous and romantic. Zey cannot resist ze lure and power of espionage."

"Espionage." Marc added.

She stopped and looked back at us, laughing.

It's a fun word to say. That's why I'm repeating it over and over. It has a mysterious, romantic flair to it--no doubt because it's a French word.

Espionage. I think most French words are that way. They add a passion to an otherwise ordinary spoken word.

And they make your ordinary work day a little less ordinary.