Tourist Points Out the Obvious

Rita and I are in Paris for the week. I came over for Accor, the French lodging conglomerate which owns Motel 6, and we decided to take a few days to ourselves. Our two boys are at home with Nana and Papa so we decided the best way to take full-advantage of being alone in Paris is to sleep. It's a great place to sleep, but if we're going to do that we might as well be in Des Moines.

Yesterday we happened by a little cafe down near the Trocadero we had been to before. We remembered it because it remains the singularly worst restaurant experience of our 11 year relationship. Given the sheer volume of crappy places at which we've eaten in the course of our marriage this is really saying something. The waiter was a cartoon of a rude French waiter. We were about the only ones in the place and he wouldn't approach us to offer a table until I insisted. It was a beautiful warm day. We asked for a table outside but he put us in a dark back corner where he abandoned us to our thirst and hunger. Our feet were tired and we were beyond hungry and for some reason we sat still for it all, hoping beyond hope that someone would eventually bring us food. Someone eventually did, although I'm sure we had a little French expectorant with our bernaise that day. Yesterday, when we saw it again, we talked about going in and congratulating them for leaving such an indelible impression with us and giving us many laughs over the years, but we decided to let it go. Our feet hurt and we were hungry, and believe me, there are better places and finer people to meet in Paris.