While attempting to recover from jet-lag, I went out dancing in one of those little Parisian “boîtes” where scruffy-looking “art” and film people drink strawberry champagne cocktails in red glasses. I met a typical French boy who was 27 and still living at home with his parents. It seems he is making a career out of getting drunk. When asked what he “does for work,” he replied, “I play golf, but I’m injured right now.” He was definitely mimbo material.

I told him about the differences between mimbos, wankers, and pimps, and he asked me what I thought of him. I replied, “You are too young to be a pimp. Since you are French, you are automatically part-mimbo.” He was determined to become a pimp, but it turns out that after I left the club, he scoffed to his friends about my dance moves and friendly personality: “She is so American.”

So in the end he is my first French Wanker of the Week. And I reported to my friend, “If I had been in Manhattan and met a 27-year-old golf-playing gimp who lives with his Mummy, I would have crossed the room immediately to go dance alone “like an American,” whatever that means.

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