P A R I S – If the Truth be Told.
Posted on October 4, 2012
Although I love the idea of Paris, I have to be sheepishly honest and tell you I’ve never been. But what’s more embarrassingly so, it’s the tale of a lone orange which has stuck in my mind and holds me back every time the city is mentioned.
The story of the lone orange was a travelling tale told by a fellow Australian: He visited the capital almost a decade ago with his mere Grade 8 knowledge of the language (a darn sight more than I possess let me tell you). Upon entering a café where beautiful women ate egg whites all around him, he asked the waiter for an orange juice. After several moments, and possibly a chorus of chuckles from the kitchen, the waiter returned with a glass vessel in hand holding a minuscule amount of orange juice in it. When my friend asked quite politely (in English) “where is the rest of the juice?” the waiter replied, “Sir, you asked for an orange juice… and this is the juice of an orange.”!