For Sure
During a weekend in Saint-Tropez I learned a new pejorative/womanizing term: the French word for ‘gold-digger’: les effeuilleuses (“feuille” referring to paper, as in money). The stereotypical “effeuilleuse” is a tall Russian ‘model’ sporting a diamanté-encrusted Blackberry and/or iPod with a monthly calling plan that is paid for by a man named Asadel (Arabic for ‘most prosperous one’) and/or Athamas (Greek for ‘rich harvest’).
‘Les effeuilleuses’ proliferate in the gleaming hotspots and nude beaches of the Côte d’Azur. A worldly French man of advanced years scorned each effeuilleuse that entered the bar. And soon after he made the following offhand comment: “In France there is a code—if a woman goes to dinner with a man, then it is expected that … ” It was not difficult to discern the rest of this old French aristocrat’s sentence. But I felt like replying to him, “No—that’s a common code in the head of Wankers the World Over … it has nothing to do with France.”
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