Les hommes qui parlent le francais sont si beaux! La mouch a ete en amour trois fois aujourd'hui.
1. The young man on the first train who trundled a trolley of snacks etc up and down the aisle. He was delightful, even though he did offer me white wine in a popper.
2. The barrista at the Montreal Central Station, who dealt with my coffee requirements with painstaking earnestness. Fly friends are aware that even hometown barristas are offended by fly's coffee choice - often offering a 'why-do-you-even-bother' shrug to the order of half-strength and skinny. Basic strength coffee here fly has found undrinkable, so an attempt was made to explain what was wanted. " Ah... je voudrais un cafe ... (what is French word for 'weak'?) ...douce? Puzzled but polite. "Ah...cafe demi ...(what is French word for 'strength'?) Barrista picked up a cup and pointed to the halfway mark. Did I want half a cup? 'Ah... cafe pas fort' Big smile - "solo - un cafe solo". Half-strength to him meant a single shot. Normal = two shots.
3. The older man pushing the trolley on the second train. We enjoyed a little chat when I bought a snack - avoiding popper-wine this time - and I asked what would be the right word for weak when speaking of coffee. Feble - feeble. Then for several miles he leaned on his trolley and explained: only one life and it is short; one is therefore obligated to drink the very best wine, coffee and even tea that one can afford. To drink 'coffee feeble' is simply beyond comprehension - for that is not then coffee. Just don't drink coffee. This is a very purist approach, and requires thought and testing our in other contexts. Is good enough good enough, or must excellence always be the aim? But I have long had a soft spot for French philosophers.
I'm not surprised - the charm and appreciation for the finer things - well, perhaps not the popper. But falling for French speaking men is perfectly acceptable. Keep up the good work!
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