I have heard stories about Parisians impatient with people who speak only one language, but I have witnessed instead a willingness to help on nearly each occasion my words have failed me (and this is a lot). Looking for the laundromat was especially daunting as I cannot keep left and right in my brain, but a man at a Chinese restaurant and a woman at a vegetable stand pointed me in the right direction (right across from my hotel). I was several blocks away at the time. They do not offer directions with street names (in fact they do not seem to recall them), but they know that after two rights it will be on the left hand sie in the middle of the street.
At dinner time, we vacillate between using the translated menu, or not. I know the words for some of the things I do not like to eat and the surprise for finding new dishes I might never have been introduced to had I known the words in the first place. Many restaurants not only have menus translated in English. They have multiple other languages to accommodate the foreign visitor.
In the Louvre, they offer a plethora of maps in languages including: Arabic, Chinese, Deutsch, English, Espanol, Francais, Italiano, Japanese, Polski, Potugues, and Russian. Even the descriptions of the artists, galleries, and time periods (but not plates captioning each piece of art) are multilingual.
The maps are color-coded, the English speakers carry red; the French: turquoise; the Chinese: hot pink. This makes it easy to pick out people with a common language (though often very different accents; take the two US military couples from Texas visiting the Louvre from a base in Germany and talking on the phone with one of their mothers in Alabama). The color-coding promotes camaraderie (and opportunities to meet other English (or slow-talking Spanish) speakers) and necessary (though not guaranteed) discretion when people watching.