My granddad told a story about a fellow he worked with back in the 70s. It was in Venezuela when he worked for their big oil company. His friend, who spoke an amazing number of languages and dialects too, was from there and his family too for some generations, though they were ethnic Germans.
One day his friend got pulled over for speeding and the Federal Patrol Officer asked him the standard: “Do you know how fast you were going?” (only in Spanish, natch) when the man summoned a confused look and said: “Yo no fume Espanol.”
The cop just sort of got a slackjawed expression, shook his head sadly and walked back to his car — finally waving him on.
I bet he had something to say about the idiot gringo he encountered back at the station house!
I don’t smoke Spanish