It's a French tradition

   In case you missed the news, the leader of France is in hot water because of a supposed affair he is having.  That is so typically French.  I have been to France.  So, fact 16:

I once slept with a French woman

     And it was all Jackie's fault!  She made me do it!!
     It was our first trip to visit Julia.  On the first two trips, we scheduled four days in the middle to get away so Julia could regroup.  We went to Paris.
     I had read the guide books.  I knew what to see.  There was a yearning to see Normandy, so I suggested we go to Normandy for the day and see the American Cemetery and Omaha Beach,  The hotel gave us directions, we boarded a train and headed out of the City of Lights.
     I like to travel second class.  One reason, it's cheaper.  Another reason, you get to see and possibly meet "the common people," people like us.
     Unfortunately, second class was pretty full, so I sat on one side, next to a man about my age.  Jackie sat next to an incredibly beautiful young woman....long dark hair, complexion the color of a honey dew melon.  She was attractive.
     Now Jackie had asked about my plans.  My plan was to get off the train, cross the street by the station, hop on the bus to the beaches, then take the bus that went from beach to beach.
     But I am getting ahead of myself.
    It seems the train ride was somewhere close to two hours.  After 15 minutes, Jackie looks over at me and says simply:  Change seats.
     Huh?   I thought to myself.  She wants me to sit next to the Most Beautiful Female on the Planet?
     So I pretended I did not hear her.
     She glared at me and hissed:  Change seats, now.
     Fantasy is good.  It provides a relief to the daily stresses of life.  Fantasy, and fantastic thoughts, allow us to renew our creative side, stimulate our minds....and the thought of sitting next to The Most Perfect Woman Ever Born To Walk the Planet Earth was indeed very stimulating.
     So I moved.  I did have to wipe the drool off my mouth several times, but I managed to sit down.  She looked over at me and smiled.  I smiled back. I said Bonjour.   She replied Bonjour.  Then she turned her head toward the window and went back to sleep.
    Summer in Paris can be warm.  The train was warm.  I was warm.  I started to sweat.  But I did not sweat any where near the amount the sweet young thing produced.  And while  I used Old Spice,  it was apparent riding second class was one way to save money, skipping deodorant was another.
     I turned to my wife who was grinning very happily two seats back and out of the odor zone.
     So, what to do?
     I looked and saw The Goddess of Love, Beauty and Sweat Glands was out like a light.
     So I closed my eyes and let the rocking of the train lull me into a dream filled with good scents.
     So, you see, I slept with a French woman.
    And day 17 will continue the trip.