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Zack! Have a great trip — Bring your scuba gear, cheri amour, you never know!

As I was waiting in Toulon to take my train, I sat in a cafe for close to 3 hours killing time. I kept sneaking up to the bathroom to steal toilet paper for tissues. The third time I finished upstairs, the cafe was pretty empty, and the guys working there in white suits and ties were singing loud French songs. I walked down the stairs and heard they had started a new one: “Starrr spreddeh zeh nooooose… I leeeeeaviiiing tudday…..” Oh! My soul jumped in its skin and I don’t know what came over me. I was at the top of the stairs, and by the time I got to the middle of the beautifully banistered staircase, I broke into song, my arms wide out: “I want to BEEEE a PARRRRT of it! NEW YORK, NEW YORRRRRRRRRRK!” The men behind the counter polishing glasses were dumbfounded, smiling. Bravo, they clapped, a lovely voice. I am sure they were equally impressed with my perfect Midwestern American diction.

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