Good Clean Fun

There's so much wrong with this post, that I don't want to write it, but I laugh every time I think about it, so I hope you will, too.

Imagine, if you will, an upstanding, scholarly lad not mounted upon a steed of glory. Instead, he is simply meandering down the street.

Walking in his direction, is a not unattractive young woman, looking him straight in the eyes and smiling. The lad looks over his shoulder to make sure that there isn't someone behind him at whom the smile is directed, and he finds that he is surely alone.

As the woman continues to approach, her gaze and smile neither waver nor falter, and the lad begins processing as all lads do by posing to himself a series of questions in rapid succession:

• "Is she really smiling at me?"
• "If so, why is she smiling at me?"
• "Am I wearing any part of my meal?"
• "Is my fly open?"
• "Do I have something on my face?"

As the proximity between the woman and the lad begins to diminish, the lad finally stumbles on the right question:

• "Do I know her from somewhere?"

Bingo. But where?. Damn.

As the two pass, they exchange smiles and greetings, and the lad continues towards his destination while he struggles with the age old "How do I know her?" question.

Finally, it dawns on him: his destination is his hotel and she was coming from that direction. Hooray for sleuthing! In France, her title is known as "le femme de chambre", which loosely translates to "cleaning lady" in my French to English dictionary.

Finally having the satisfaction of knowing why this formerly mysterious woman was smiling at him and having managed to discern how he had recognized her, the lad thought to himself: "The cleaning lady cleans up nicely."