People at the table were buying wine by the bottle and pouring at will. One nice gent across the table asked me if I wanted some more and I said yes.

  My new friend started to move the neck of the bottle back and forth and it was all I could do to guess which direction he was going next. When he sat down he explained and as it was translated to me, it turned out that he'd reached directly over the candle in middle of the table. He was able to pour for a few seconds but then his arm started to burn so he was going left... I was going left... he moved right... I went right... he went to the left and I moved to the right... I tried to follow as best I could but it quickly became impossible. My glass got a little, the tablecloth got a bit, his arm got a little warm and we just laughed about it all.

  It was straight out of
Young Frankenstein, where Gene Hackman is playing the old blind man who can't find the soup bowl. I had the feeling that as a first night in Paris this somehow beat the standard tour.

  He was pouring left, I was going right...
   
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