I hate to generalize, but aside from body-checking anyone in their path, there are other ways that Parisians are different than Americans.
If you don’t believe me, ask some of the friends I traveled with recently, who have the bumps and bruises to prove it after a plane arrived from Paris and the dining room where we vacationed turned into a game of human pinball.
(But don’t ask Deb about how one fine day, her corner of peaceful tranquility on the beach ended up with her being suddenly surrounded by a mass of noisy new arrivals, who didn’t seem to mind arranging their chairs all around her…when the rest of the three mile-long beach was completely deserted.)
When I lived in America, it was rare to find leeks. Some of you out there in the states are probably thinking; “Leeks? Aren’t those the fancy onion-like things at the supermarket that are expensive?”