The little school boys aren't so bad after all

Have we gotten to the bottom of Les Petits Ecoliers?  First I thought it was schoolkids. Then I thought it was the name of a famous French porn. And then I figured out that it really means "the school boys." And let me tell you again, it really means "the school boys."

Should I be ashamed to say that I spent four hours at the cafe today?  Four hours.  Did Norm ever spend four hours on his stool?  If I ever write a book, these will be some of my favorite characters.

I prefer the time alone with Olivier, the owner.  But, in four hours you can be sure that he had a few customers.  A new one would come, chit chat for awhile and leave.  Then, Olivier would fill me in.  There's one that owns a fancy game store.  I don't really know what's there other than chess.  I pass it on my way home and it's kind of been something I look forward to.  You can't see the owner from the window, but his classical music pours onto the street.  Sometimes I come home that way just to hear it.  Today I found out that he likes to say rude things in French because he knows that I don't understand and he thinks it's cool to be able to do that in front of me like a little secret between him and Olivier.  Little does he know, his playmate tattles.

There's another one that  likes little boys.  He's preppy, cute, kind of looks like a business man on a casual Friday.  But, he likes little boys.  And he has no idea when he winks at me that I know that he likes little boys.

There's a lady, with a great name that I seem to have forgotten, that sometimes spends the whole day.  Today I said that I was like her and Olivier said, "You'd have finished three bottles of wine by now if you were her."

There's an old man that comes alone everyday.  He sits at the same table and he comes twice a day at the same times.  Today I found out that he used to come with a woman.  Olivier assumed it was his wife.  He's been coming alone for the past three months and Olivier still hasn't asked about the woman because who knows if she left on the back of a motorcycle with another man?

There's Angelito.  He's Spanish.  He's Angelito.  I don't know what else to say.  He sent me a text ( I didn't know a 65-year old guy would be into texting) and signed it "El Nino."  It's the first text I've received from a hurricane.

There's the Portuguese lady.  I like her.  Today she told me how to prepare Confit du Canard.  I said that I wanted to take something as a gift on my next trip to Italy.  So, I bought it, and she told me how to prepare it.  I just checked my dictionary.  Canard is duck.  Ok.  Confit is candied or crystalized.  Then it says in French, Confit du canard followed by the English definition Confit of duck.  I'm sure confit means something in English that I don't know.  I can't imagine that I'll be preparing candied duck for my Italian friends.  But, who knows?  I still don't have any background scoop on her.

I'd be foolish to think that they didn't know some secrets about the American.  I just wish I knew what they knew.  Maybe I'll start telling Olivier some lies to make myself more interesting for the others.

The biggest surprise came today.  A man that I've seen and talked to a few times came in and showed Olivier a cane.  The top was carved to look like a seahorse.  We looked at it, handed it back to him and then he told Olivier it was a gift. As he was leaving, I said that I'd be waiting on my stool for my gift tomorrow and that I liked chocolate.  So, he left and Olivier told me his story.  He robbed several jewelry stores at gunpoint and was in prison for twenty years.  "NOW he's not such a bad guy," said Olivier.  Ten minutes  passed  and he came back.  He said that he couldn't wait until tomorrow to give me my gift and presented me with a lovely wrapped box of chocolates.  I opened it.  We had a few.  And he left.  "See," said Olivier.  "NOW he's not such a bad guy."  I'm just glad I didn't say that I liked jewelry.