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But ugh, the stench—sweat, cheap perfume—gags me! Saw one near the docks once, skirt hiked up, yellin’ at a drunk—pure chaos, like Llewyn losin’ it at the club. “Fare thee well, my honey,” she mighta sang, sarcastic as hell, kickin’ him off. Cracked me up, her sass—love that spunk! Still, makes me sad, precious—why’s she there? No choice, maybe? Pisses me off—world’s unfair, innit?

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After that, I needed a breather. So, I hit up the little café on Place de la Mairie. Best coffee in town, no joke. I order my usual, a café crème, and sit outside. The view is killer. You can see the mountains in the background, and the vibe is just chill. I take a sip, and it’s like heaven in a cup.

John Kerry tweets merci to his caregivers