I’m that girl…that American. I caved in and went to Starbucks. Look, I was in dire need of a good, strong, big cup of Joe and after a week of no goods, this coffee addict lover needed a fix. Then, to add insult to injury, I proceeded to walk the streets of Paris with said cup of Starbucks in hand. I’m not sure how things have changed since I started learning French ten years ago, but back then, Madame Tomlinson taught us that the French never, I say never, walk and eat/drink.  I found this out the embarrassing way on my last trip to France, when I was reprimanded by the hotel manager for taking a piece of bread out of the dining room. It’s an experience I still flinch at…six years later. Now, it’s true: I did witness a very French looking man eating a sandwich as he strolled past me on the street, so perhaps there’s hope, but I’m afraid the tradition of not eating/drinking walking on the street is still very much alive. All I can say is, last Sunday, I felt the eyes of every passerby looking me up and down as I tipped back my white, mermaid logo-ed cup. I’ll have it known though, if there’s one thing worth becoming ridiculously American about, it’s coffee. That’s for sure.