An empty lot in the middle of the Rue Royal had been taken over by sellers of hand-made jewelry and such. It was evening and getting cooler. One lady sat in her folding chair, laboriously pulling hot pink (much hotter than in the photo), ruffled, nylon bloomers on over her leggings, explaining that there’s nothing like synthetic bloomers for keeping your thighs warm.
I remarked how wonderful they looked with the rest of her colorful attire (they really did), and then the owner of the stall next to hers joined in the conversation.
“I had a friend who used to wear bloomers just like that. But he didn’t wear anything underneath, and he never took them off, so they got pretty ripe.”
“Oh, you mean Jack? Yeah, they looked good on him, though.”
As we walked on, the two of them continued to reminisce about Jack. And I thought Austin was weird!