Today we had lunch at the famous Café de Flore on Boulevard St. Germain. Of course, we didn’t know it was famous at the time. I just didn’t want to eat at a place called Les Deux Magots (which is a lie. I’d read about that one). The problem was a certain five year old who was starving and telling JJ, “I’ll pay you money if we just stop and eat.”
Ass. Torch = 11.00 euros
Sand. Mixt = 10.00 euros
Club Sandwich = cough, cough, 19.00 euros
When our waiter, Stephane, presented the damages, I was a bit stunned. But I have to hand it to the Cafe de Flore — at least they put it right on the bill that you got your Ass. Torch.
You should have seen JJ’s reaction. Oh, wait! You can . . .
It was almost routine this evening. I might have convinced myself, for a moment, that I was still back at home, but then … Paris happened. I looked out our window, and there was Notre Dame, majestic in the gloaming.