Is Frenchiest a word? I just decided it is. Anyway, the Frenchiest thing ever happened to me this morning and I had to share.
My housemate, Katie, and I went running this morning into town, and on the way back, stopped at the little market they have every morning (there is a bigger one in a different location Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday, but this one happens every morning until 1p). The backdrop for this story is that song from Beauty and the Beast, about the poor (lol not Aix) provincial town. We bought a cured sausage, and bought some cheese and two baguettes, but we wanted some fruit. We went up to a fruit stand, and as we were deciding what fruit to buy, I observed the guy running the stand. Other than the beret and striped shirt (people don’t wear that as much as the movies make you think), this guy was the quintessential French guy. He was walking around behind the fruit, talking to another vendor, and just genuinely happy. We bought some strawberries and apples. He gave us a slice of mango and I basically fell head over heels for this mango. BEST MANGO I’VE EVER TASTED. Anyway, after walking around a little bit, Katie and I compiled the rest of our money and I decided I had to buy a mango for myself. I went up to our nice French friend who sold us the other fruit. I asked him (in French) how much for a mango. He said two euros. I slipped into English and said I didn’t have enough. Then he said, (in French) “how much do you have?” I told him and he said I could have it and motioned for a kiss on the cheek. There was a table in between us so I was mercifully let out of that obligation, but our interaction with him was the cutest, Frenchiest thing ever. I literally just bargained with a French man for fruit. At a market. In a poor provincial town. I am Belle.
My life is a dream here. I love it. Happy Friday 🙂