A Day in Paris

     While we went out sightseeing, Bubba spent a day out on his own.  I told him to be careful, but Bubba is Bubba…

          It was suggested that I might not need a car.  Of course I rejected that recommendation and rented a Bubba sized car.  I found a slick model with a blue bumper and, the night before, I found a parking place at the end of the street.  There was no room for anyone behind me and I felt I would be able to get the car on the road easily the next morning.  I was wrong.  Someone found a way to box me in.

     I saw a motorcycle with the keys in it and thought maybe I would borrow it but a large cat beat me to it.

     I heard the Metro was good but do you know how many feet there are in there?  Besides, I couldn’t jump high enough to read the map.  Wait, is that Blair reading the map? 

     I tried walking but got lost right off.  I met some wonderful people from England, Steven and Marion, who tried to tell me what streets to use but I just couldn’t get it.  They ended up putting me in the map so I could understand.

     Rick and Spider had no problem finding their way around Paris but I was not as lucky.  This is a pedestrian friendly city in most places but the distances were too far.  The Metro is great; fast and efficient.  The trains run about five minutes apart so there is little waiting, but that third rail was way too intimidating.    I just had to jump in and go.  Maybe find my old motorcycle and use that.  I found a place to work out my problems.

     They had some exquisite wine called Chateau Egouts.  It was a little strong so I took it easy.  This guy, however, had a bit too much and took the term “plastered” one step too far.

     I tried to pull him out but just couldn’t get the strength.

     It was while walking through a lovely garden that the event happened that would change my life.  I was wandering from flower to flower when I saw HER.  She was across the flower box from me.  A Parisian vision of beauty.  A bon jeune fille if ever I saw one.  I had to meet her.

      In my best French I yelled, “BONE…JER” which I think means good morning.  She ran off down the street and I couldn’t catch up to her.  The big dog got in my way.

     I found a couple of unattended bikes and grabbed one.  In hindsight, that was a BIG mistake.

     Possibly Bubba’s biggest mistake to date.  He did not get far as he couldn’t reach the pedals and was apprehended.  He was taken to the Palis de Justice and we were summoned.  Bubba’s future freedom was on the line.

     Oh, and Chateau Egouts?  Not so good as Egouts is French for sewer.

 

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