Meet Julik (short for Julien). He is my friend's dog, and lived with us when we were roommates (and only cemented my conviction never to have a pet in the house). I love his little fat wrinkles.
The other day, a friend and I stopped by the farmer's market to pick up some organic dog food for Julik and dinner for us. One of the vendors was an older man from Nice, France. We overheard him speaking English and caught his accent right away. Of course, we had no choice but to creepishly make our way to his stall and pretend to be interested in olives while he finished helping his customer.
He turned on the charm immediately, as French men tend to do. Although in this one case, it was a bit much. He began by comparing my friend to his ex-wife (she looks exactly like her, apparently). He told her she was "a tiny, skinny, little thing, just like my wife"....and then he glanced my way as if to say "but YOU,mademoiselle, are not" In my defense, I'm 5'9 and I've got curves -- and my friend is 5'4 and petite. Then he proceeded to say what a shame it was that he couldn't take us to dinner afterwards as he had another farmer's market to attend.
Something tells me we would have declined, anyhow.
We did end up buying a container of Nicoise olives....and they were delicious. As was the home-made apple cider. I wish Farmers Markets could be around year-round.