Bite of Paris

Woke up this morning wishing I could have coffee and a croissant at a cafe in Paris. Really, morning is my favorite part of the day. Especially when you have nothing in particular to do. You can just sit quietly, watching wealthy people walk their dog with their "man" servant behind them waiting to scoop the poopies when it should be necessary. French aren't normally into picking up after their pups, but I did witness a manservant doing just that. Along with people walking briskly to catch the Metro or riding their bike with little baskets on the front, trying to get to work on time. The flow of Parisiennes provide a steady stream of entertainment and curiosity. Where do they work? How do they live? And why do they get to drink rose flavored Elixia Lemonade at Fouchons whenever they want and we don't? Paris fascinates me. Especially standing in the baguette aisle at the grocer and watching them handle the crust of each loaf, pulling it close to their ear, yes, with their bare hands, in order to listen for that perfect crunch. I once watched someone pick up five different loaves until they "heard" the perfect one.