I’ll never look at a vagina the same way again. XXX On this day, my clerk was particularly helpful as I was having trouble communicating my bra size. Walk along the Avenue Kleber (don’t worry, it’s not a French word, so you can pronounce it any way you please) to the Palais du Chaillot (pal-ay doo shy-oh), and from there across the bridge to the Champs de Mars (shons duh mar) and the tower. I’ve found that if you let the surly French waiters know that it’s okay to touch your breasts, they usually lose the attitude, and you can often get a free refill on the glass of excellent Chardonnay (shar-don-nay). Was that a little goose I felt?
