Having backed out of a meetup at the very last minute, I heeded the Purrito’s departing suggestion and headed to the pharmacy down the street for Zyrtec and Dolirhume (paracematol and pseudoephedrine).
I was greeted by a sign posted in the window saying that they were experiencing a fermeture exceptionelle.
I turned away from the window when an old woman pointed her cane at me and asked, in heavily accented French, if the pharmacy was closed.
Oui, I said as I walked by her and sighed.
I found myself smiling, however, as I heard her cursing, in German, behind me.
Fezzik In Paris 