OH my goodness, Bob, this francophone and former French teacher LOVED this story! Not only because of the charm of the ongoing Barbara/Bob love story, but also because for ONCE those French came through in the name of ROMANCE and LOVE, REAL love, not tawdry fake stuff with lotharios and DOXIES - now there's a word I've never heard before, but I promise to find an excuse to use it soon. MERCI, and BRAVO, for a truly great story! Here's a toast to Paris!
Speaking of dinners, you probably won't remember this but when we were in a restaurant interviewing a prospective rector for AS, you swept in, ordered a martini, and saved me from being the ONLY one at the table not sipping ice water.
PARMEEGGIAN. Love it! I've heard that, and worse. Good story. PS I'm very envious of your ownership of the Ritz ashtray. I do not have any hotel ashtrays (some I did seriously covet), but recently I absconded with 2 cork coasters from a hotel in Canterbury. Gave them to my daughter, who was not amused! Learned my lesson, at this advanced age.
Here's a novel idea. Since you are my rich relative, why not spring for a couple of night at the George V for me foe the next time I am in Paris? Pay it forward.
Great story! As another of Midwestern upbringing, we can’t help ourselves when the hay that is still in our hair comes out of our mouths! Been there, done that, wouldn’t buy the tee shirt!
What a charming story and what a wonderful life! It is only now, in my seventies that I am finally comfortable with not asking the price of something first!
You old romantic, you! Love everything about this one. Reminds me of being chastised for using the wrong fork at a Reuters dinner. Illinois isn't that far from Indiana...And how about those Parisian waiters? Busting all the negative stereotypes of the French. Lovely.
Cosmopolitan is a drink? I thought that was the ice cream with vanilla strawberry and chocolate. Wait, no, finding out that’s Neopolitan. Growing up next door in Kentucky I didn’t do well with big words myself. 🙂
Again, this story so warms my heart. Thanks.
OH my goodness, Bob, this francophone and former French teacher LOVED this story! Not only because of the charm of the ongoing Barbara/Bob love story, but also because for ONCE those French came through in the name of ROMANCE and LOVE, REAL love, not tawdry fake stuff with lotharios and DOXIES - now there's a word I've never heard before, but I promise to find an excuse to use it soon. MERCI, and BRAVO, for a truly great story! Here's a toast to Paris!
Thank you, Sandy, and as the French say, "Drink up!" Oops, gotta go. My Francophone is ringing!"
Bien sur! A toast to THAT!
Keeps me and my Barbara happy with your 5 am stories!
Huh? No kidding?” I craned my neck to see what a mistress looked like. Priceless, Bob!
Thank you, Paul... Not priceless, though, just fairly priced at $5 a month...
Aww. That is so sweet.
Speaking of dinners, you probably won't remember this but when we were in a restaurant interviewing a prospective rector for AS, you swept in, ordered a martini, and saved me from being the ONLY one at the table not sipping ice water.
I do remember, Jane. I scoped out the situation and told myself I should help you by ordering a very Christian dry Bombay Sapphire martini...
And also with you...
PARMEEGGIAN. Love it! I've heard that, and worse. Good story. PS I'm very envious of your ownership of the Ritz ashtray. I do not have any hotel ashtrays (some I did seriously covet), but recently I absconded with 2 cork coasters from a hotel in Canterbury. Gave them to my daughter, who was not amused! Learned my lesson, at this advanced age.
Clearly this is fake news. Everybody knows there are no nice French people.
Busted, John....
Here's a novel idea. Since you are my rich relative, why not spring for a couple of night at the George V for me foe the next time I am in Paris? Pay it forward.
It's all taken care of, Susie. Just see the guy at the Hertz counter...
Magnifique. Great read.
Great story! As another of Midwestern upbringing, we can’t help ourselves when the hay that is still in our hair comes out of our mouths! Been there, done that, wouldn’t buy the tee shirt!
What a charming story and what a wonderful life! It is only now, in my seventies that I am finally comfortable with not asking the price of something first!
You old romantic, you! Love everything about this one. Reminds me of being chastised for using the wrong fork at a Reuters dinner. Illinois isn't that far from Indiana...And how about those Parisian waiters? Busting all the negative stereotypes of the French. Lovely.
Wait. You went to a Reuters dinner where there were FORKS? La De Frickin' Da!
Cosmopolitan is a drink? I thought that was the ice cream with vanilla strawberry and chocolate. Wait, no, finding out that’s Neopolitan. Growing up next door in Kentucky I didn’t do well with big words myself. 🙂