After a day of zee French grad school, I was shopping for groceries, and it occurred to me to buy a baguette at a shop near campus. Quelle mauvaise idée! It's one thing if you're a clichéd Frenchman with impeccable balance, a bike, and a basket. It's another if you're going to the sub-basement train at West 4th Street with a bread not designed to fit in the bag with the rest of your groceries. It almost tumbled out, but ultimately stayed put for the train ride, although the balancing act meant I did not have a hand free to read. All was well enough until my (lazy, unnecessary) bus ride from the train to my apartment. There was, thankfully, no bus-bread contact, but there might have been. That alone is upsetting, although I know it shouldn't be, given the life cycle of the unfinished bread basket in restaurants.