When I was in Dublin there was a distinct lack of Irish people in the public services, such as serving in stores, cafés, restaurants or hotels. This led to a few amusing situations. Everyone seems to be exerting themselves to make themselves understood, on both sides of the counter.
One incident in particular makes me chuckle even now days later. I ordered a latte without foam from the very chic Eastern European thin-as-a-model beautiful-as-a-Renaissance-painting woman, who was manning the espresso machine, and she turned around and confirmed in the most graceful of manner my order, “a latte without froth”.
I smiled and wondered what through her mind when I placed my order: a rabid dog foaming at the mouth, sea foam, Styrofoam, or liquid packaging foam.