How Much Do I Love Paris?

LIZ SAYS: Dick is back in the States to deal with the selling of the house. It has pased all its inspections and the closing is set for the end of the month.
It has just hit me that this is the end of an era in Madison.
But, I can't get too sad.
Being alone does have its up side.
Adrian phoned to invite me to lunch tomorrow and make sure I was not lonely.
I went for along aimless walk today and listened to the French pop I had downloaded onto my phone. I had not listened to it because Dick and I are usually together. It was very nice. I walked along the river, took photos of people taking photos of each other, which is a project I'm working on.
I notice things that I would just chat through if Dick were here. I went to the bistro on our corner, the Petit Cardinal. I realized that I had learned to eat a burger with a knife and fork, although turning the fork upside down is still a conscious effort. The regulars came out as they smoked and wished me "bon appetit". I realized that I didn't even recognize them, but they noticed me and that I was alone. So, they wished me a good meal, and greeted me to make me feel less alone. We, I, always try to eat outside. I love it. Just sitting on the corner taking in the comings and goings while I down my dinner. We often study our french at the Petit, so we go there almost every day at least once, sometimes twice. Its nothing special, a normal bistro. The food is better than most, but nothing spectacular. In other words, its never going to be in Michelin, but the service is great and the food is very good. I just realized that the smokers noticed me,us, because we are often outside eating. As they come out to smoke, they see us and tonight I was alone, so they said , "Hi". It was sweet.

When you first get here, you notice Parisian waiters are a gruff lot, with their black aprons and white shirts and grunts. But, as time goes on, you learn to understand and love them. One, I met when I first arrived. I call him Buster Keaton, he has the saddest face and a gruff exterior, but he's a sweetheart. He is probably 50ish, but he smokes a lot. He cannot speak english very well, so he makes little grunts in response to things he does not understand. It made him seem mean until I understood he just didn't get what I was saying. Now, he amuses me. I, so want to see him smile, just to see what it looks like.
The other waiter is Vahnsahnt (Vincent). He is younger and has the greatest poker face.
His lips just barely curl up on the edges if he is amused by our accents or happy about a tip. He told us his name once he realized we came so often. He speaks a little English, and would clearly be more friendly if only we could talk to him! We can count on him to pronounce a verb for us, which I think he gets a kick out of. He knows our order for coffee with milk and water, by heart and recites it to us every time we sit down, then the corners mouth curl just a bit. I was able to tell him that Dick was back in the States for a week and he sympathized.
So, even though, I'm alone, I feel safe and cared for. That may seem like a lot to extract from dinner and an aimless walkabout but, that's me and that's Paris.