When Dan and I planned a picnic for our last night in Avignon, we had no idea it would turn out to be such an interesting evening.

We started by picking up the food - eggplant spread, cucumber salad, a baguette, some cheese, a package of beef terrine, a bottle of 2008 Cote Du Rhone - and set up on the stairs of a large 14th century building to get out of the wind.

About halfway through the meal, this black dog approached us, followed by a homeless guy (about 30)?) The guy kept yelling at the dog to leave us alone, but since we had pretty good food out, no one could blame the dog for ignoring his owner's commands and coming over to us. Before we knew it, the owner had come over to reclaim his animal, and suddenly we were hanging out and sharing wine with a homeless guy, on the steps of a 14th century building in Avignon, France.

The guy (couldn't catch his name) had an interesting story. He had been out on the streets for a few years, and came to Avignon because apparently it has great weed. He was in an open relationship with his wife, and the dog, Satan, had been with him for 2 years. Very crazy story.

The entire time we sat and talked, the guy was either rolling a tobacco/hashish joint, or packing hashish into his bong, so it was terribly ironic when two under-aged French girls came over to our steps to bum a cigarette, and he yelled at them and told them to go away because it was against the law for them to smoke.

This contradictory set of values was hilarious to me.

He also tried to pay us for the wine, but of course we said no, because the entire time we were hanging out, Dan and I were both wondering how we'd get his skinny dog a proper meal.

I think the craziest part of all of this was -

A. that I had a lot of fun talking with this guy (he spoke limited English, so it was definitely a chance for me to practice the little French I know)
and

B. that nomatter how fun I thought it might be, I would never have spent an evening with a homeless man in San Francisco.

I mean, I typically avoid the homeless . . . but this evening made me wonder. .. .