On Monday, a well-dressed middle-aged couple came into the bar and sat at a table in the back. I thought nothing of it, the window tables were occupied and the weather was just average for sitting on the terrace out front, so it didn't even register as unusual to me. Ahhh, sometimes I am still just an innocent hick from the swamp and I need to be educated in these worldly ways, because my boss took one look at this couple and muttered to me that they are having an illicit affair. Quoi? How does he know this? Well, apparently the only reason a couple sits at the back of a bar in Paris is because they are up to no good and they don't want to be seen by anyone they might know. And he was right. One glass of wine and they were all over each other like hormone-crazed teenagers - most unseemly. Seriously, if your smooching is loud enough to be heard over the sound of a dishwasher, you need to dial it down. God! Is there a snarky French equivalent for "get a room"???