Even BEFORE we open our mouths

we walked silently into the coffee shop.

"Hallo, you are not French, yes?"

"ben, non, mais on vit ici, on habite à Pessac"... (um, no, but we live here, we live in Pessac)

"I knew you were not French just by looking at you..."

OK, we were with a Chinese person, and I guess you could tell they were not French, but even for them it's a bit of an assumption to make...

Oh well. Despite my imposing, deGaulle nose, the baguette under the arm, the beret and the cigarette hanging our of my mouth, I STILL don't look French...


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