The Tony Sixth

Our cross town move is complete; we are safely ensconced in our new apartment. It is not as roomy as our first apartment but the neighborhood is a lifetime away. We are now in the very tony Sixth Arrondesmont. Gone are the piercing parlors, alternative lifestyle legions, and the gritty urban texture. Hello Pacific Heights, hello Gelatarias, well appointed cafes, upscale shops, and the pretty people. Yeah, the pretty people, my people in an aspirational kind of way.

Just below our apartment is a café and next to it a bakery that is one of the better known Paris Boulangeries and Patasseries. Our first morning I made an early morning pilgrimage to pick up my daily baguette and an undisclosed number of croissants, Ommm! I tenitively approached the counter, hope beating in my heart and my 7 words of mispronounced French steeling my courage. I made my order and paid the smiling woman.

I carried the warm bag home with high expectations. They were warm, they were wonderful, and faintly orgasamic. This bread based boy was in the seventh ring of Operator heaven.