Local Flavor at a Parisian Tabac


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I’ve been eagerly trying to write and submit this entry in this month’s #MWWC12 in spite of the distractions that abound. Work, deadlines, crying babies (not mine, the neighbors, they break my train of thought,) wine club pick-up parties, unexpected houseguests (aka ant infestation,) in-laws, parents, clergy, it’s so darn busy these days trying to make a buck and then you bonk your head “I shoulda written that post for the MWWC!”

But never fear! There isn’t a deadline that a little caffeine, spousal abandonment and chutzpah can’t conquer! Here goes….

The theme: Local. The place: Paris. The era: 2014, during the war on terror, Ebola outbreaks, overly bearded men and babies on iPads.

I’ve just strolled the Jardin des Tuileries adjacent to the Louvre, when I was nearly accosted by a band of gypsy girls asking if I spoke English. “Why yes! I thought you’d never ask!” By the auspices of lady…

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