Ah, foreign language swearing…
I met a rather nasty man some months ago, in the sort of situation where I had to be polite for the sake of the team. And one day, when things went to shit regardless of my efforts, he swore at me in Afrikaans. He paired them with a gentle tone and a generous smile, as if his words were benign or even flattering.
What he didn’t know was that I grew up listening to my Opa swearing in Dutch. Dutch isn’t quite the same, of course, but it’s close. Especially the cussing.
So, I knew those words. So, I smiled appreciatively. So, I waited.
And, when he least expected it, I responded to his English frustration in Dutch, flinging a few ripe words his way.
That is satisfaction.