last day together in paris. walked around, checked out rue st honore (oohlala!) and, um, some jerk stepped on my archilles' tendon and bloodied my heel. nothing a few choice words and exacting demands couldn't solve. to console my wounded pride, he (love of my life, not the clumsy jerk) sat me down at one of the palace cafes, plied me with san pelligrino, cleaned the wound, stopped the bleeding, nursed me back to health and, um, bought me a wallet from CDG. ahh, i'm way too materialistic for my own good.
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