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Logic is not their strong suit – the French, I mean.  A clearly right-brained race, they’re wired for beauty and passion, not common sense.  Take today, for example.  I go to a health-food store that I love, about a mile away from my apartment.  I buy chicken, vegetables and a bottle of organic wine.  I ask for a bag.  “39 cents,” the storekeeper says.  That’s about 50 cents, American – no problem – it’s along way home.

The salesman hands me a paper bag that’s absurdly large, given the few items I have.  I pay the bill and begin packing up my groceries.  “Be careful,” the man says.  “These bags aren’t very sturdy.  Stuff usually falls out the bottom.”  Wow.  So, I’ve just paid 50 cents to maybe or maybe not get my groceries from cash register to curb, to say nothing of the mile between there and the house!  No problem.  I’m an American, known above all, for my ingenuity.  I shove the bottle of wine into my purse and leave the other items in the oversized paper bag.  When I leave the store, there’s a bottle of wine sticking out of my handbag (not really that unusual on the streets of Paris) and I’m holding a humongous, grocery bag that contains 1 endive, 2 pieces of chicken and 3 shallots.  Ahhh, Paris…

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