Several months ago, Lee obtained fake moustaches. The question that followed was when to wear them. Because the night of acquirement was ending and the joke potential was low, I persuaded Lee to pocket the moustaches instead of us jumping on immediate usage. In total disappointment, Lee abandoned all hope of changing my mind and stuffed the goods into her wallet. Trying to alleviate the sadness on her face, I insisted that we save them for the perfect moment.
Since that day, Lee has frequently begged we make use of the moustaches. Bastille Day was the winner.
Bastille Day ranks among my favorite holidays. The general public could care less about Bastille Day, if they even remember it exists. But each and every year, as I think back on past Bastille Days, has been full of fun frolics. This year was no exception. We arrived at the Grand Opening celebration of a new restaurant Café Moustache, knowing one thing: If you wear a moustache, you get free frites and a glass of Kir Royal. We approached our destination with vim and vigor.
As we entered the restaurant, we were surrounded by chicly dressed professionals. At first there wasn’t a moustache in sight. We slowly approached the bar and sighed in relief. One person after another wore a distinctive fake moustache.
At the end of the evening, we headed home pleased as punch for two reasons. Not only had we managed to befriend the locals, but we also were professionally photographed. We checked Cafe Moustache’s website the next day. Here’s what we found:
Thus ends another tale of Lee’s search for fame and my quest for a good time.