A Silent Milking

Earlier today I was chatting with two girls and a guy from Quebec, they’d come in to rent guns and asked to go over firearm safety and proper shooting form.

While observing them on the range I texted a friend of mine, from Montreal, whom immediately offered to tell me some slang. Instead I asked him to inform me to say, “are you still lactating?” I had no reason to suspect either young woman was a mother but they both looked dairy. In a good way.

“Ess queue voos ett encore an lakt-tass-yon?” Was his phonetic response. I read it once and didn’t memorize it.

The woman were chatty once the male excused himself, the man apparently had lived here awhile, the girls were returning home to Quebec. I figured I’d never see them again. “Ess queue ett encore an lakt-tayes-yon?” I said. The more pale girl blushed.

It was at that moment I chickened out and followed with, “that’s the only French I know, please, what does it mean?” On realizing she would have to repeat it out loud she became red upon pinkish-cheek-red. A double blush.

The male of the group returned from washing his hands in the restroom. The subject changed, the second young woman blurted, “do you have any guns from Canada?” I lead them away and didn’t persist in my question.

Either of them.