Excuse me. Where is your bread plate? I do not know about you, but I do know about me. I do not eat off the floor. Or a restaurant table. I just cannot get used to the French way of doing things. Except for the wine or champagne with everything. Miss.
I saw Paul (Jean-Pierre Léaud) doing this exact thing with the bread at a cafe in Godard's movie, 'Masculin Féminin'. When I saw it I imagined the hygiene hunter of the 1960s snapping a b/w photo and storing it in a book; waiting for a time when technology would allow her to show the world.
Three verifiable things about me. One. I am an only child. The concept of sharing, therefore, is foreign to me. Two. I am a Virgo. The sign regarded as a perfectionist. Three. My mother raised me to be meticulously clean; compulsively tidy. According to my mother, "You have taken this clean thing way too far." I disagree. Apologies to my mother.
Nature or nurture? Who knows? Who cares? I have not been diagnosed with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Nor would I label myself a Cleanaholic. Or a Germaphobe. My world though, is definitely a unique place. One where doors open magically. Hotel mattresses are pristine. And estheticians never double dip.
I live in this world without a bubble or a honeycomb mask. About 15 years ago I got tired of catching the flu du jour and became ever more so hygienically vigilant -- perhaps obsessively so.
I saw Paul (Jean-Pierre Léaud) doing this exact thing with the bread at a cafe in Godard's movie, 'Masculin Féminin'. When I saw it I imagined the hygiene hunter of the 1960s snapping a b/w photo and storing it in a book; waiting for a time when technology would allow her to show the world.
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