"Is beautiful no?" said the French man behind the counter.
"Oh it's beautiful alright." I replied and continued to stroke the case.
"Every woman should have a case, but this one es, wellll, it should go to someone who appreciate. You know?"
"Yes. I wish It could be mine but I'm afraid my husband wouldn't approve of such a purchase. It's not even my birthday."
At this point the French man leaned over the counter and motioned for me to come closer.
"Madame," he whispered, "I see no husband with you today."
And he smiled a very French smile.
Why is it when I shop, even window shop, I feel devious, like I'm plotting to spend money?
I think I'll get over that.