This was another e-mail, just to the family this time.  This took place on
or around 8 December 1995.

To: family
cc:
Subject: Dental Floss
--------

*more news from the Californian on the Cote d'Azur*

When I searched for dental floss in Carrefour, I didn't find it.
I instantly recalled my lotion nightmares.  Just in case Carrefour
wasn't well-stocked (a ridiculous thought if you've seen the place)
I tried Champion, Casino, and other local supermarkets.  No luck.
Ok, ok, I know I have to go to the pharmacy.  Not a problem, except
I might have to speak with someone and try to ask for what I need
instead of being able to inconspicuously pluck something off the shelf.
I picture myself making sawing motions in the air near my mouth and
amusing a bunch of French people just out to fill their prescriptions.
(This is the 'village-idiot' phenomenon that my French friend living
in CA told me about just last night; of course he told me in French
and of course I didn't get it and of course he had to explain in
English.  This makes me some sort of a double-level village idiot.)

Well, off to the pharmacy I go, and voila! I find what looks like
dental floss sitting right out on the shelf - no need to ask.  It's
very, very expensive though.  More than $7 for a very small container
(even in Ecuador it was very cheap).  The container was tooth-shaped.
Cute, but quite unnecessary, and quite expensive.  No problem, I think.
I am not giving in to this robbery.  I will use very small pieces and
manage to buy very little.  I got home and tried the stuff.  I don't
know if I bought waxed or unwaxed or what, but it seemed to be the
super-duper-so-glossy-you-can-hardly-hold it variety (is this soap-on-
a-string?  lotion nightmares again...).  So, you guessed it, I needed
to use a long enough piece so I could wrap it around enough fingers to
create enough friction to get the job done without complete frustration.
That is not all.  This stuff is super-slick through the fingers, but the
friction kicks in in the mouth.  I had a *horrible* time getting it
to budge between my teeth.  I marvel that they could have invented such
an inverse-functionality product.

Sheesh.  I suppose I'm lucky I didn't end up trying to floss with twine.

I love France.  No, I hate France.  No, I love France...

Ellen

PS Does eavesdropping mean listening?  or understanding.  :-)

*****

When my parents and subsequently their neighbors read this story, they were
inspired to send me a box full of dental floss, except of course all of France
was on strike and the mail was disappearing who-knows-where...