Perfect Trip to Paris
 

I just got back from a wonderful 10 day trip to Paris. The flight over on Air France was nice as they automatically upgraded all American citizens to Business Class. When we landed the immigration guys just waved all the fat folks wearing fanny packs and white tennis shoes right through. Boy, was I impressed with the grand reception we got in the arrival hall. A whole mess of hot French babes were kissing all the Americans they could find and slipping their phone numbers in our pockets. I was darn glad to be wearing my NYPD ball cap and an "America: Love It or Leave It" shirt. Then the friendly cops grabbed our steamer trunks and oversized red, white and blue suitcases and escorted us to the head of a block-long taxi line. The cab driver, who was wearing a blue beret, black scarf and striped polo shirt and spoke perfect English, kissed us all on both cheeks before carefully pouring us a glass of real expensive wine and fluffing up the pillows in the back seat. To top it off, he just smiled when I tried to pay him with some good old American money and said it was his pleasure to serve us since his whole family had lived on American c-rations after the war! That was sure nice after he had arranged a police escort and taken us on a city orientation tour on the way to the hotel. When we finally got to the hotel, our room wasn not ready, but we just talked real loud and waved our blue passports, and the staff soon realized who they were dealing with and kicked out a couple of Germans from a huge, air conditioned, no-smoking suite that overlooked the Seine. We were pretty hungry by then so we went looking for a Burger King or Wendys. Disappointed in not finding one, we reluctantly approached one of those sidewalk café places. I felt real good when all the previously glum-faced waiters smiled broadly and snapped to attention when they saw my ball cap and my grossly overweight wife's new Disneyland shirt with the fake gold braid around the collar. Seeing that we were bothered by the smoke, they jerked the cigarettes out of all the French people's mouths and brought out a special table so we could sit in front. Not being able to read French I casually yelled across the place for the manager to hand scribe me one in English. Then a blushing waiter introduced himself as Pierre and patiently explained all the many specials and went into great detail about how everything was cooked. What nice bunch of folks. They even let us make substitutions for the icky things we didn't like and gave us double-sized portions with lots of extra ketchup for the American Fries. And the coffee refills were free. When we got ready to go, I snapped my fingers and yelled "Garcon" and they came running like panicked servants. When I left the waiter a couple of quarters as a tip, tears of happiness streamed from his eyes and he kissed my wife's stubby little fingers with great tenderness. Hey, it's not Six Flags over Georgia, but I'll go to France again if the dollar keeps going up and the Frogs all know we come from the greatest darn country in this here world!

LOL--that is absolutely perfect Degas.
I usually just lurk here reading the sometimes fascinating, sometimes inane, but always entertaining posts. Yours, however, deserves a special note of thanks. =D>

Susan - after all the bitter Paris/France posts and counter-posts, its time to lighten up a little. Glad you enjoyed it.

I thought only Canadians got this speacial treatment in Paris.

Degas..you made my day! I hope those who need to see themselves in your post - do so, but I seriously doubt it!

Thanks!

Took me a few minutes to realize it was a joke...good one!!

Degas - you sure know how to travel in style. I'd like to tag along on your next trip over the pond!

Hey Deags,

I really liked your post until I got to your line about Germans in a non-smoking suite.

Who you trying to kid?

:)

ira - you got me on that part. They can stink up a room real quick. Its hard to believe, but smoking is even worse in Asia.

Bravo, Degas =D>

By the way- I love your paintings of the ballerinas!

RE: Scarlett

Thank you. I also enjoyed drawing race horses and if you ever get to Boston, take a look at my bronze sculpture (Little Dancer) in the Museum of Fine Arts.

Oh but where I live the Museum has a room full of your paintings and the sweet little ballerina sculpture~
BTW-we went to Philadelphia Pa and visited the Museum of Fine Art which had a wonderful collection of your paintings ((F))

Merci (that's French) for the report Degas! I loved it.

Degas -- What a wonderful trip report! When you dined in French restaurants, did they bring you supersize Cokes with lots of ice and free refills?

Well done Degas, well done! What a funny, witty entertaining post.

By the way I used to think you were quite the busy sculptor because I saw your little ballerinas everywhere. Then I found out that you just cast them over and over out of the same mold. Do you think this cheapens your art? :-D

Degas, Go home and paint!!!!!!....lol

Yes, when I ordered "Le Cocoa Coola" I always used vigorous sign language that clearly indicated I expected super-sized drinks with crushed ice and free re-fills. Hey, for 4E, you know darn well I'm expecting to get close to half a gallon.

My wife also got special treatment. When the waiters saw her massive rear-end (both of us have slow metabolisms and are big boned) hanging over those tiny little outdoor cafe chairs, they provided a second chair without us even having to ask. If only the airlines where that considerate.

What an insightful traveler and artful writer you are, Degas! It was fun to take this "trip" with you and refresh my perspective on the Ugly American syndrome. I'm off to France in three weeks and eager to enjoy every aspect of the culture, history, and joie de vivre that is so positively and famously French!

RE: liketogo2

Be careful on the subway or Le MEETRO as they call it. Its summer and a crowded car can expose you to more than your travel agent let on to be the case. Some of those frisky little French gals got vigorous garden plots growing under thier skinny beanpole arms.

Degas!

You da man - or whatever the correct French phrase is!

Thanks for a great laugh!