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About Bordeaux

I’m pissed tho—some dude tried rippin’ me off, actin’ like he’s pimpin’ but he’s just a loudmouth. “Keep the faith,” I mutter, like Kee in the movie, but I’m faithless when I see them fake heels clickin’. Then—bam!—there she is, smokin’ a cig, lookin’ like she owns the chaos. Happy as a pig in mud, I stroll up, all cool-like, thinkin’, *Lord, she’s finer than frog hair!* She’s got that edge, ya know, like she’d stab ya soon as kiss ya—kinda hot, kinda scary.

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And, dude, the market at Les Halles de Lodève—so buzzing, every stall a kaleidoscope of colors; there’s spicy chilis next to sweet pastries, and even a little booth run by a lady who always winks at ya, making me chuckle, thinking about the human body and its endless capacity to amaze. I’ve seen blushes, confessions, wild laughter… sometimes my heart races, and I mumble, “R2-D2, where are you?” when I'm overwhelmed!

Véronique Vendell