I found my cafe the first week I was here. It just happened to be around the corner from the grocery store so I sat down. The waiter was really friendly and corrected my french in the best possible way - laughingly. Now that I'm a regular, I don’t even have to practice the french necessary to order the coffee. I sit down and two minutes later - a cafe creme appears on my table. Yet, I seem to understand and speak more French at this cafe than any other place in the city.
I write a little while and watch the people walk by.
The cafe is across from L’hotel de Sully and bike tours drive by and stop occasionally. The other day the tour guide said something in English to the group while pointing to the building and a man walked by and yelled ‘C’est pas vrai!’ (It’s not true!) and chuckled to himself mischievously.
One guy is my favorite. His job appears to be taking free newspapers and handing them out like they’re Christmas presents. The first time I noticed him he strode out of the cafe and shouted to a woman pushing a toddler in a stroller. ‘Salut! Ma petite copine!’ A tiny hand shot out of the stroller and he handed the little girl a paper. She clutched it like a prize on her lap and as she was pushed away, she turned to him and piped out ‘Salut!’
This morning at the cafe, I practiced my French with the waiter. Topics included the holiday (Toussaint), a particularly charming dog at the table next to mine, and our respective moods. The newspaper guy walked into the cafe and was given a rousing standing ovation. I couldn’t hear what they were applauding him for but I agreed. Well done, sir.
