Habla German?

Amazing how many languages are spoken where I work here in London.
Even by the same person.
There's this one woman who sits near me, who you wouldn't think was anything but British.
Beautiful posh upper-class British accent.
Long blonde hair. Blue eyes. The whole package.
Other day, she gets on the phone, and out spews, uh, perfect German.
Even though I don't speak a word of German, I could tell it was just, well, fluent. Joking, laughing, talking fast, breaking in, like that.
I asked around and someone told me she's actually German, from Berlin. Not British at all.
Okay, that explains that.
Then yesterday, I hear her blabbing away in quick Spanish on the phone.
Spanish I understand, although there is no way in hell I could have carried on the conversation she was having.
She spoke really good Spanish too.
Geez. Spanish and German just aren't that similar.
In the States, I was special. Because I had another fluent language.
Italian.
I could always impress people with that, if I needed to. Break out the old Italian when needed.
Not that many Americans speak any other language.
Unless they're Latinos. In which case, they speak Spanish. Or they're Vietnamese. And then they speak Vietnamese. Like that.
I guess that's me too. I'm Italian-born, so I speak Italian (thank you, mamma e papa.)
They say Brits aren't good at languages either.
But in my office they sure are, this office full of hybrid creatures.
I feel like a slouch now.
Only one other fluent language?
What a disgrace, girl! Try to keep that to yourself.