As you've been reading in the last few Normandy Chronicles, day 4 on our B&B inspection trip had been long and action-packed, with stormy skies, fabulous lunch and wine, some foxes (Mr., Mrs. & Little Mister) and one American.
Well, I didn't write about the one American we met, because he was totally disinterested in the fact that I was American and instead spoke to Galadriel in French... with a New York accent. He has a B&B in the area and to be fair, he only talked to Galadriel because he wanted to be in her B&B guide (or not get kicked out of it...I'm not sure which). He was all business. But still, it was disconcerting to just follow them around the place (me and the cats) without him at least once saying, "So, where are you from in the states?" I could have fallen off a cliff and he wouldn't have noticed.
Confessions and observations of an American girl in Paris.
