Every time I see a French policeman I hvae the urge to run up and flirt with him, saying "Bonjour monsieur! I love the little red cord on your sleeve! May I pull it?" Somehow I don't think they'd find it too cute.
I love to get up early and walk around, rather than taking the Metro. There's truly nothing like the city in the morning, when the tourists are all asleep and I meet the real characters of Paris. As I pass Notre Dame, I see a young priest and nuns, hunched over, and realize I'm in a country that is 90% Catholic. I love to watch the fat little men who run cafes, as they push their groceries on hand carts as tall as they are.
But my favorite, my absolute favorite early-bird Parisians, are the middle-aged men on motorcycles. It doesn't matter what they look like, beacuse they always say the same thing-- "Bonjour mon petit," which is short for "mon petit chou," my little cabbage. I love walking down the street after a rainy night, my full skirt blowing in the wind, and having a middle-aged man called me "mon petit." Of course, you must never let the men know you like it. Smiles or even a slight glance in their direction will only encourage the old scoundrels.
But as soon as my back is to them, I smile.