Paris Nonsense, Part I

Mes amis,

Rhonda and I arrived in Paris yesterday and promptly planted ourselves at an outdoor table around the corner from our rented apartment where we feasted on the most exquisite tomato tart and stared at passersby. We read in one of our guidebooks about the acceptability in Parisian culture to stare—according to the author a popular way for one woman using public transport to study and adopt fashion sensibilities from another but now employed by anyone with a hint of curiosity about his fellow man. The book encourages Paris visitors to go native and stare freely, and Rhonda and I have been practicing in earnest. This being my first-ever trip to Paris and because of my shy nature, I started small by staring first at children, who by the way speak excellent French here and even look French. I cannot say for sure this is due to their attire and attribute it more to their attitude. Children here seem to master at a very tender age as much the unique Parisian comportment as the accent.

Speaking of children, I have yet to find any insufferable ones here. Those of you who heard me express pre-trip concerns that although I could remember very little practical French I had learned how to tell parents that their children were unbearable, will be either relieved or disappointed that I have had no opportunity to have the phrase "vos enfants sont insupportables" roll off my tongue to anyone. From Rhonda's own repertoire of seemingly unimportant French phrases, however, I have been able to steal one and use it appropriately when—after staring at a picturesque Frenchman or distracted by a pear tart in the window of a patisserie—I had reason to shout, "Mon Dieu! J'ai marché dans une crotte!" indicating to those around me that my shoes needed cleaning and that Paris's pooper-scooper laws could use a bit better enforcement (especially, I might suggest, in the Jewish quarter near the corner of rue de Rosiers and rue des Hospitalieres St. Gervais).

Day Two Statistics:
Cheeses tasted, 4
Cheeses to go, 242
Paris Nonsense continues...