I work in a french cafe. I am lucky to have the job and my bosses are nice and blah blah blah... The truth is while I am serving people coffees, I really wish I could just drink them, while I am popping a croissant into a bag for a customer, I want to devour it. And preferably do these things in France, rather than in a french cafe. I had two nights in Paris in January and oh was it bliss. I was giddy with excitement the whole time, and looking back now, probably scared all the composed parisians to death with my unstopppabale perma-grin. Oh well! All I had to do was step out of my hotel and watch all the effortlessly chic girls, the suave men and drool over the fresh pastries, and smell the amazing coffees that were somehow sweet of there own account, non non, the French do not need sugar.