Waiting in line patiently at the new terminal at CDG. The counter agent is tired, I'm the last person before she leaves for the day. Her friend has already gotten off and has come by to wait for her as she finishes with me. I have three suitcases and you're only allowed two. Oh no! I think. She'll be crabby and in a hurry. There goes 150 euros in excess baggage fees, plus waiting in line at the Air France office to pay the fee, then waiting in line again to hand over and ticket the baggage....
"An American world championship football team is here," the other agent says chattily to her friend, who is checking my passport and seat assignment. "American football, you know, not real football! And they call it a World Championship! But the men are so handsome-- real armoires à glace*, huge, and so goodlooking!"
"Are they on my plane?" I said, interested.
"Where are you going, Madame? ...No, they are not on your plane. C'est dommage! Anyway, they are all younger than I am [implying,"too young for you, as well"!]."
"One can always admire!" I said.
The ticket agents both laughed. Mine took my last suitcase, deftly fit the label around the handle, and sent it onto the conveyor belt. "Here is your boarding pass, Madame. Have a good flight!"
No extra luggage fee, and when I got on the plane, I discovered we were in prime seats.
*Mirrored wardrobes-- this is slang for a really huge guy with wide shoulders