Somewhere in a posh Vancouver television studio, a motley group of people are gathered. Four red leather couches face inwards, a coffee table sits in the middle. On one couch, four bikini clad girls are primping themselves. On another, an African dancer and a stand up comedian are finding common ground. On a third, sits a smallish Frenchman with long hair, the busted up face of a hockey player, and red leather pants that disappear into the couch. I sit on the fourth, taking it all in.
The Frenchman leans over and asks me, "what's with the girls?" I tell him they are modeling swim-wear for the TV variety show he is about to appear on. “Models? Those aren’t models. In France we reserve that word for the really beautiful girls like Kate Moss and Cindy Crawford”. He is talking rather loud, and I hope to God the "models" can't hear us.
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