Ce qui est vers le haut avec moi et le Français?

Here I am. On the metro. Reading my book. Enjoying the story a little more than before. And this man, sitting next to me, starts speaking in a foreign language. But not one that I can easily place. It distracts me until I suffer the realization ... he's speaking HORRIBLE French. Even I, who can bastardize a phrase or two at best, could recognize that this guy was doing to the language that which would have even the most ardent freedom-fry-loving, beret-despising, anti-francite in the world gawk in horror. I couldn't stop listening. sortie never sounded so bad.

What is it about my book that attracts French speakers? Any other language I can shut out, but French. Man. Why me?