One look from the Air
France flight attendant and Albert's fomosexuality zoomed into high gear, such was the look in her eyes, the slightly disordered hair, her swollen lips, and the hushed thickness of her voice - he knew - knew! - that she had enjoyed a wildly sleepless night, had rolled out of bed just in
time to make her flight, that the two men and one
woman who had shared her bed were all sleeping in a state of satiation as
thick and fragrant as the Cappuccino she was extending to his trembling hand as he muttered his barely-coherent 'Merci Giselle, ah, merci'.