Still need convincing re Francais?
Apres the soiree, mademoiselle directed her chauffeur to exit the cul-de-sac at chez Miller and cherchez a toilet and bidet; the entree had upset her stomach. "Mon Dieux!" he wailed, " my limousine!"
The debacle worsened as en route home several gourmets also felt similar effects from the crudite, pate and puree. Etiquette among this nouveau riche melange - friends of the debutante - began disappearing.
The coup de grace? A former enfant terrible, now a connoisseur and masseuse (and also working as a sous chef while writing a roman a clef using a nom de plume), directed the ensemble and mademoiselle to his nearby cafe housing several toilets, one with a bidet. His savoir-faire - putting aside the outre toupee - saved both the femme fatale and the blase gourmands not to mention the decor of that limousine. This denouement made the elite group look forward to their next quiche, souffle and flambe. Tres magnifique!
Pour vous, mon cherie, a la mode. PB