What can be said about Paris that hasn't been heard before? Croissants, yes. Eiffel tower, yes. Mona Lisa, yes. Magical, yes. Before I can even begin to describe my own affair with the city, the listener is anticipating all my stories. So forgive me this one more version, another cup of water in the sea.
So there we were in the Jardin du Luxembourg, Ezra with his jambon de parme baguette, me with my coconut and nutella crêpe. It was a cloudless day and we'd been strolling among the statuary all morning. Enamored by a magnificent view of the palace, we paused behind a row of loungers to catch our breath.
At that very moment, the man seated in front of us, an ample fellow on a chair that seemed to be losing the battle, lifted his large behind and let out a walloping fart, as if to say, "Ah, Paris."
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