Did you know that if you hop on the TGV (bullet train) in Marseille, three hours later you are in the heart of Paris. Three hours! Why don't I just hop the TGV more often just for a day trip? Why don't I say, "French Husband, honey-darling, (actually I call him Cheri FM, it is a radio channel's name here in Provence, and I like how they sing it, "CH-errrrrrrrri FM.") ….let's do lunch in Paris?" I gotta start using that line of thought more often.
But until I sing Cheri FM to French Husband, I will hop the train with my cousins Judy and Chris. It is their first time to Paris………… Oh la la, what fun we will have. I must find an Orange Beret then convince Chris to wear it for a photo. Maybe have him wear it at the Place de la Concord.
Or dance around the streetlights in Paris with one?
or maybe I can randomly mark a spot on the metro station map: let's say the Eiffel Tower and beg him to do me a favor and pose with an orange beret on his head.
I'll have to beg him over coffee at an outdoor cafe…. he is a not easily agreeing like I thought he would be!
Better yet if he doesn't wear it for a photo, I'll threaten not to translate the menus on black chalk board causing him to eat escargots and burger de cheval.
Or maybe I can tempt him to wear the beret if I promise to find a classic romantic spot along the river Seine, or at a park to sit and cozy up to Judy?
You know I bet I could ask a French waiter with a black vest and white apron to wear an orange beret and he would… Does it matter if it is Chris or not?
Well if he won't wear the beret I am going to take a photo of the two of them kissing under this symbol of romance. Did I hear you say "French Kiss?" Oh mon Dieu!
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