Koffee with Ken.

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Adele Taught Me Better

A beautiful day in the neighborhood.

Calli and I started rather late at 11am, I showered quickly and then ran to grab us some coffee from Starbucks while she got ready for the day. Fun fact: du lait d’avione means oat milk in French.

“Je prends deux lattes glacés a la vanille avec du lait d’avoine, s’il vous plaît.” I’ll take two iced vanilla lattes with oatmilk, please!

We scarfed down our chocolate croissants and our coffee, and hit the town.

We decided this morning that we had done the Eiffel Tower ALL wrong yesterday—the best view of the tower is from the Trocadero Gardens across the Seine. The luxurious thing about such a long trip is that I can just go back again and again and again until I do it “right”.

When we got off the metro, we were inundated with crowds and people trying to sell little Eiffel Tower souvenirs. Calli wanted to take a couple polaroids, so she lined up the shot she wanted (as a photographer, she has some very particular preferences) and I got into place. While she was posing, a man walked up to us and said “Nicki Minaj! Comme ça, Nicki Minaj!” — and then demonstrated the ‘Nicki Minaj’ pose.

Calli obliged, and then we waved him off with a smile and a ‘merci’. I noticed as we walked along the pavilion that the peddlers were saying that to all the tourists posing for pictures. Maybe it was so they could take the photo for a euro, maybe it was to seem more approachable. Who knows. But I’m not Nicki, so, they weren’t gonna get me to pose like her. (Sidetone: what the hell was he talking about? If you know, please drop a comment to explain, because I’m confused? I just googled it hoping for a picture to demonstrate and came up empty.)

After a brief glass of wine by the gardens (which I supplied myself with my own Cable Area Fall Fest wine glass), we decided we’d walk along the Seine a little more. We found some beautiful spots along the river to just relax and take in the tower, and we FaceTimed some family.

Then it was time for some lunch. Calli and I came across Chez Francis, which had a large outdoor seating area under big red awnings. And, they were getting slammed. The line to the hostess stand was 10 people long already. It was because of this fact that I made a major faux pas.

When the hostess addressed us, I cut right to the chase and asked for a table for two, to eat.

Oops.

I instantly apologized, greeted her properly, and then felt like a huge asshole for the entirety of my lunch. The dumb thing is, I had been told and had even read before that in French culture, it’s always deemed as rude to get right down to business, even when you’re trying to save them time. You always, always, always say hello and how are you before anything else. You do it the moment you walk into the store or the restaurant.

But it was my instinct to not take the time, to take up absolutely no time and frankly, no space. I’ve realized that it’s my nature to not want to take up space in general. Yes, I may be at my leisure, but I’m always at your service. The feminist in me recognizes that that’s a common thing for women.

I’m really hoping I figure out how to get over that, because in an instance like this, I was doing no one any favors.

To my credit, she was rude to everyone else in line— but I was the only one who had earned it first.

After our lunch of steamed salmon and breaded veal (forgive me, vegetarians) we decided to walk it off along the Seine some more. The clouds had rolled in and we were no longer baking in the sun.

Around 5 o’clock we found our way back to the Galeries Lafayette and Zara. I bought myself more sun dresses that I don’t need, because why not? At this point I should’ve just packed some pajamas, my toothbrush, and called it good. Today is the first day I actually wore something from home.

When I was checking out at Zara, I noticed they had a self check out and a short line. All I had to do was place my clothes in this big granite-looking cubby and the register automatically scanned everything and added it to my cart, before I’d even really set it all down. Then I quickly paid and broke the machine trying to get the little security tag thingys off my clothes and the line was growing behind me and I didn’t know how to say “The machine won’t take the security tag thingys” because I haven’t gotten that far in Duolingo and— then someone came and helped me. I shoved my clothes in the bag and left.

Oops!

Calli and I grabbed some dinner at Mama Sens on the first floor of the Galeries Lafayette. I had a Prosecco and a pizza with parmesan, burrata, prosciutto, and basil, and Calli kept it classic with a ginger beer and a margarita pizza.

Afterward we hurried home to avoid getting rained on, and here I sit! We’re enjoying chocolate covered madeleine’s with wine, and watching some Gilmore Girls on Netflix. I just love watching Rory stress so much about getting into college knowing that she’ll get accepted into all of them.

Time to log off and enjoy Amy Sherman-Palladino’s signature witty-repartee.

Jusqu’à la prochaine tasse de café!

-Ken