When I was working at the Bains-Douches in Paris, a clouchard came up to the door. The bouncers moved to prevent him from climbing the stairs. I ordered them to stop ans asked why he wanted to come in.
"Because I'm a good friend of Moses."
His raison d'etre granted him entry to the elite boite de nuit and my boss nearly fired me after the bum drank a bottle of wine from Thierry Mugler's table.
"Why did you let him in?"
"Because he's a friend of Moses." The excuse wasn't so funny to the patron, but he had never seen Charlton Heston part the Red Sea in THE TEN COMMANDMENTS.
I know it was special effects, but the real thin must have been very impressive.
The clouichard was escorted from the premises by the bouncers and cried out, "You can't treat the friend of Moses like this. Just wait till I talk to him."
He stuck around Les Halles for about a year and ranted before the Pere Tranquille about how the bains-Douches wasn't very religious, except for the pas de ped American at the door.
"That Amerlot loves God."
And I wish it were true, but it's good to have one person saying good for you to the Grand Seigneur even if he's completely mad.
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