Insult to injury

After a long run, the time had come for the post-run coffee and pastry. (This is what happens when I run before breakfast.) I went to a place that somehow gets away with not having chairs - in the Italian manner? - figuring that there was a bench out front, and it was a nice enough day to sit outside. No sooner did I get my almond croissant when the available spot, the one I'd had my eye on, was taken. Not just taken, but taken by a model who could not have been older than 17, and a particularly pretty one even by 16-year-old runway model standards.

I want to say this makes me so ready to leave NYC for the summer, but I doubt if Paris will be much better on this front.