There’s this French guy who works at the farmers market by my house. He works at the apple stand. And he is French! I love him. He sells me apple cider and he calls me mademoiselle. Seriously. He’s like “Bonjour, mademoiselle!” “Good morning mademoiselle!” “You are here for ze apple cider, yes?” “Ah, thank you, mademoiselle! I will see you next week, no?” It makes me feel like I’m Belle from Beauty and the Beast in the beginning, when she’s walking through the village.
