Vending machine coffee: Bad (because it's French) and deadly (because it's French).
I took the RER down (and over) to Versailles today. Bellissimo! Pictures tomorrow, I promise.
At the train station I decided that a bad cup of coffee was in order. Wouldn't you know it: As soon as I get used to the French's bad coffee, they up the ante and make it deadly. One sip before I took the above photo, the spoon barely visible at the near 4 o'clock position in the cup was not at all. It made its presence known to the back of my throat. It brought back sweet memories of my first sip of French coffee. It, too, made me choke.
At the train station I decided that a bad cup of coffee was in order. Wouldn't you know it: As soon as I get used to the French's bad coffee, they up the ante and make it deadly. One sip before I took the above photo, the spoon barely visible at the near 4 o'clock position in the cup was not at all. It made its presence known to the back of my throat. It brought back sweet memories of my first sip of French coffee. It, too, made me choke.
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