Manuel and mi general Diego Carvajal got to talking about Paris and the bread and cheese that people ate in Paris, and the tequila that people drank in Paris and how you could hardly believe how well people drank, how well the goddamn Parisians around the Marché aux Puces could drink, as if in Paris, or so I thought, everything happened around some street or place and never on a specific street or in a specific place, and this was because, as I later discovered, Manuel had never been to the City of Light, and neither had mi general, although both of them, I don’t know why, professed a fondness
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