At every city event, he is there proudly.
|No, he's not in this picture, but just to give you an idea of a gathering where he would appear.|
|We gathered in front of the mayor's office Saturday to receive "foulards de Quillan" scarves from Quillan.|
What a crowd!
He goes throughout the crowd, 200, 300, it doesn't matter.
Do they speak French or English? Doesn't matter.
|Here we are posing for a selfie with our new scarves; again, the French man is not in the photo..|
With a British man, I might occasionally clink my sunglasses' frame against his glasses, or I might move forward too hard and bump cheeks.
This Frenchman goes in with a firm grasp on both upper arms. Other times he places one forearm at the back of a woman's head as if holding her captive. I've seen this from other Frenchman too, and it makes me feel a little claustrophobic. Luckily, I haven't been held in a headlock by any of the French men who do greet me.
Earl and I find the man's greetings amusing, but some women in the crowd draw more attention from him, and their husbands don't find it quite as funny.
The French would never hug, but the cheek kisses are a necessity, a little opening of politeness, so there's no refusing the man's hello kisses.
An English-speaking man who has lived here a few years, shared that he'd heard the French man might be a womanizer.
"No!" I acted shocked. Yeah, I had figured that out.
But as long as I'm not the black cat with the stripe being chased by Pepé le Pew, I find it pretty humorous to observe.