“Pardon, Pardon” uttered the determined sea of commuters on the streets of Paris. Other than that, they kept to themselves, and we kept to ours. It became clear that rushing businessmen weren't afraid to knock a few tourists from georgia over. As we powered on through the mid-day crowded streets, our group kept a close hold on our valuables because we were taught to be aware of pick-pocketers. Some of us insisted on guarding both back pockets with both hands as if their butt had been set on fire. It certainly gave the rest of us a laugh. “No lollygagging now!” shouted our English tour guide, in an accent that we all tried with little success to imitate. He was a tall bald man of about age 45 with hardly any facial hair and a cleanly
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