Three stories in reverse chronological order

Last night I went over to Jen, Flor, and Daniela's house for a poker night with the other assistants. We had beer, chips, and red absinthe. I abstained from the absinthe (is it really a good idea to consume something with a label that begins "Danger! Do not drink neat..."?) but according to Dan, it just made him sleepy. "Maybe I should drink this stuff every night," he considered.

Flor had never played poker before so we had to teach her the rules to Texas Hold 'Em. She's from El Salvador (and Daniela from Germany) so the common language here is French, which isn't a problem when explaining which cards and combinations of cards are more powerful, but saying, "Je fold" to back out of a round didn't sound quite right. Jen looked up "fold" in her dictionary, but the first definition was "plier," as in to fold a piece of paper. She looked again and found another translation, this one referring to a business. We spent the rest of the evening taking turns announcing, "Je ferme ma boutique (I'm closing my shop)."

These next two stories will be told in dramatic form.

Scene: My apartment. Joe has stopped by to check is bank account balance online. To picture this scene most vividly, you must imagine Joe with his very proper British accent and me stuffing pizza into my mouth.
Joe: Damn, I can't check my account. It says my password is grillé.
Me: Doesn't that mean "grilled"?
Joe: Yeah, that's what I thought.
Me: (Checking the dictionary.) No, we're wrong. The first definition is "to toast."
Joe: %&$#, my account's been toasted.

Final scene: The grocery store. I'm shopping in the produce section just like anyone else when I run into one of my students, an especially enthusiastic eight-year-old.
Me: Hello!
Student: (Excitedly) Hello!
Me: How are you?
Student: I am from France!