NYC: Last night in the black and white of dusk, sipping rose at Bar Pleiades' sidewalk cafe, a smoking hot, elder Frenchman came snapping around the corner in a blinding light like a comet, his loud, phantasmagoric red sneakers blaring first...

He suddenly commanded all he surveyed, made everyone at the cafe heat up with inner hormones howling, before whippin' his kicks into the dark, cool, hip depths of The Surrey Hotel.
"Ah, yes, another easy, sexy summer begins,"
we all thought.

Well the Summer of 2016 was anything but easy.  Hail and hang the Frenchman anywhere French sexy confidence is desired.