2008-4-30 6:05pm
We went out to lunch the other day to an excellent brasserie in Autun (Burgundy), which I’ll try to write about some time later this week, hopefully. The restaurant was pretty packed and for some reason, “the suits” were sitting on one side of the restaurant, everyone else scrunched over on the other side. Anyway, my adorable and funny sweetie suddenly bursts out, “That lady is TOTALLY American!!” (talking about a woman just exiting the restroom across the restaurant)
Me: “Why? How do you know?”
Him: “Because she has a kleenex over the doorknob because she doesn’t want to touch it directly……you know, like you.”
Me: “That doesn’t mean she’s American. That means she’s psychotically germophobic …like me. Hey, don’t generalize. Wait! They always do tests on doorknobs and they find POO on them! You don’t want to touch that in a restaurant, do you, then eat dinner?”
Him: “Ok, yeah, but you even wrote about American Germophobia, remember? Anyway, it’s an American thing. You can’t convince me otherwise.”
Me: “Oh yeah. I did write about that. Nevermind that, though.”
Me: “Omg. I just heard them talking and yes, that lady IS American.”
Him: “SEEE!?”
