My husband, son, and I went for a leisurely Sunday city stroll and stopped into the train station for a coffee at Starbucks. I know there are a million cafés in Paris but there’s something about the hustle and bustle of the train station that I like.
Plus I had to get the holiday latte before Starbucks took it off the menu.
Hubby and son sat on a bench while I waited in the long but quick-moving line. I could have pulled rank and pointed to my pregnant belly but I kept it hidden (well, as much as possible) under my coat. We weren’t in a rush and I don’t like to cut in front of other people, no matter how valid the excuse (and how raging my hormones).
Slowly but surely I reached the counter and placed my order. The friendly employees ran the operation like a well-oiled machine. I guess you have to be efficient if you work at a coffee stop in a busy train station, but in France that’s no guarantee.
Then clear out of the blue…
