Le Marche

Friday was a rather lazy day. I did some grocery shopping, setup the blog, and finished my application to Princeton. I did go to a gathering of teachers at someone's flat. However, this time, it included mostly older teachers. That being the case, the music in the background was light classical music and the highlight of the evening was probably quiche with "shevre" which it turns out is just the word for goat but is also a culinary term for goat cheese. The teachers and I sat around and talked about, well, nothing. So, I was relieved when Myriam said she was tired and we left.
Saturday, I got up early and went to what is said to be the largest flea market in the world. Mostly it is clothes and shoes but certain streets had some of the most amazing antiques I had ever seen. While wandering down one of the many sprawling side streets of booths, I saw what I thought was the perfect leather bag that I had been looking for. I asked the vendor (in French) what the cost was and he said 160 euros. I scoffed at the price although for a hand sewn leather bag that is probably a good deal to begin with. He showed me a couple of others but he could tell I was only interested in the first one. He asked me to name my price and I said 120 euros. He said absolutely not. Then, I started to walk off. He came back with 130 and said that was still too much. After several minutes of back and forth on prices, he asked me what I had in my wallet. I said 100 euro. Then, he started packaging it to give it to me and I got scared. I looked at him and he held out his hand for the money. I was so nervous because I wasn't ready to spend even that much money, I literally turned and ran down the street. I can't stand being pressured into buying something. Yet, this is how that sort of thing goes in a flea market and I know, but I just have a hard time dropping that much money for a bag I had only just seen. I know I will probably never see that bag again but there is another market next weekend where I can look again.
That evening, I went to dinner with Genevieve, her daughter and son in law, and another teacher. It was a nice dinner but I was a bit over dressed. Genevieve told me we were going to a restaurant which I thought implied my needing to wear a blazer. So, I got dressed up. I had my leather boots, my Juicy Couture blazer and this awesome button down shirt I bought a Nordstrom before I left. When I got to the restaurant, the waiter was in jeans and a tee shirt. The party I was with was only slightly more dressed than that. I looked pretty good, but felt pretty strange.