I love coming here for dinner and a bottle of Veuve Clicquot. It reminds me of a wild night at my friend Vincent's home in Paris, where I used to live and where my husband, Federico, is from. We were there for a wedding along with two friends of ours, and we'd arranged for them to come to dinner at Vincent's. We started off with lots of champagne and foie gras, and Vincent was showing us vacation pictures from a trip he'd taken with his boyfriend. They'd happened to be the only people flying first class, so the stewardess had shut the curtains and Vincent went a little crazy and decided to do an impromptu striptease--he was down to his undies in the photos he showed us. Suddenly he left the room, and when he came back he was wearing bright purple underwear and started dancing around for us. After that he kept coming back in different outfits--in one of the photos I took he's wearing a blue polyester tube top, a pink leotard, a black-and-white spotted furry vest, and a blond wig with a blue curtain wrapped around it. We thought it was hilarious, and at some point we got up and started dancing with him, though no one else stripped. On the way home my two friends asked quietly, "Are all French people like this?"
--April Vega, assistant controller