Thanks, Jet!
Here's me in Paris ...this was probably over 30 years ago and since I'm a pack rat, I still have that sweater and leather jacket though I haven't worn either in over 25 years:
Grace, occasionally I still dream about Paris. It's usually the same dream. I'm sitting in Maxim's and there is a rich aroma of cooked foods and I'm almost salivating from that, plus I'm looking around taking in that thick Belle Epoque atmosphere. The violin player is standing by my table playing my request, Ochi Chyornye ...Dark Eyes... since the French girl I'm with has very dark eyes and black hair. He leaves and I call over the maître d' to give him a tip to give to the violin player, but I can't speak French and the maître d' "pretends" he didn't understand what I said so he pockets the tip and sends over the violin player to my table. So I tip him "again" and the French girl and I laugh about me being a dumb American tourist getting ripped off by the French. Later in Montmartre at the sex shops we buy some of those funny condoms that have gargoyle heads molded into the tips, laughing and being romantic...then I usually wake up.
^ the gargoyle pic is not mine, I just like it.