Although people don’t hug in France,
and to be honest, it kinda gives me the willies now, too – there are some
people who I just can’t resist giving the ol’ wrap around to. (Which probably
explains why a number of people back away when they see me coming.) One is a baker in San
Francisco, who always seems to have a big smile on his face. I’m
not sure what it is that makes me want to hug him, but perhaps I am hoping some
of his good cheer will rub off on me — along with a touch of flour. Or else I’m
still, hopelessly, Californian, and will never shake the body-bonding habit of
hugging.

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