Au secours! The Greve's gonna get me!

Last day, last Metro home, via Miromesnil.
Still down in the bowels of the station, the air is smoky
and getting more so as I ascend. I’m proud to not panic,
but I cover my face and move fast. More and more smoke
until we all emerge into not so fresh air and a mass of young
people, burning something and shouting demands. I stop
to snap a picture and again remember 1968. Skip returns
from his last day of shooting everything that moves or
doesn’t move and we return to Miromesnil to do the photo
booth photos we’ve talked about. We decide against a
drink in a bar, since we’ve stuff to finish off in the fridge.
Yes, we are officially old.
Next morning, Saint Christian arrives on his mighty steed
around 6am and our trip down the actual elevator and to
Charles de Gaulle is easy. No truckers massing to slow down
traffic, no blocking of access routes.
He stays to ensure our flight is expected on time, though
over 3 hours away, and we kiss goodbye, once on each
cheek. It’s doubtful I can convince Regina to come to
Seattle, but I’m still working on Christian.
Skip and I repair to the Air France lounge, well staffed and
well supplied. You can get drunk at 7 in the morning if
that is your wish. I try and read the French paper, though
I’ve given up on speaking the language. It’s so tiring to
come up with words when it can take me 5 minutes to recall
them in English. My sentences end in the middle, waiting for
someone to finish them, usually not moi.
I like to stop at the Duty Free Shop! I like to stop at the Duty
Free Shop! Extra credit for remembering who said it on
what TV series. Maybe the hard-to-find miniature Eiffel tower
as a prize.
I’ve never shopped at the Duty Free Shop, but when they roll
the cart down the aisle, I decide to look at the book. Pages
of perfume until, voila!, I see the perfect Judah gift. I even have a
few euros left. A little Air France Airbus 380 airplane set, with
everything from baggage cart to signs: arrivals, departures,
airplane ahead. Judah likes the plane and doesn’t eat the small
parts. He is 10 days away from the recommended 36 months.
Trip highlights: being fed continually for 10 hours; seeing rocky
Greenland and puffy Baffin Island; Skip, giddy with excitement as
we descend over Seattle: Look! There’s Ballard!