The term was coined by Dan last night at dinner, and I feel like it is the perfect way to describe the Parisian attitude. They're not assholes, they're just offended by how uncool YOU are.

And frankly - your lack of coolness IS offensive.

Americans always say that the people are snobby in Paris and I really didn't want to have to agree with them because I love Paris, and I have loved the French throughout this entire trip. In the other parts of France people have been so unbelievably friendly - and have had adorable mannerisms and extremely good manners - so I would rather chalk most people's complaints up to their own unwillingness to adopt the French culture.

But unfortunately, since I've arrived I've had 3 experiences that make me wonder - Do the French hate me, or are they just jerks?

Submitted for your review:

1. The first day in town Dan and I bought a 10 euro bottle of wine at a bodega and paid with a 20 euro bill. The owner looked at the 20, looked back at us, looked at the 20 and asked "Don't you have anything smaller to pay with?" We said "no," and he shook his head like we had majorly offended him. He finished the transaction without speaking to us, looking agitated all the while.

2. Dan and I ordered a 40 euro lamb confit at a nice restaurant with an appetizer and a bottle of wine, and ate everything but the super dense fat part of the lamb. Like - grizzle fat. The waiter came up to clear the plate, saw the fat was left, and looked very upset. He tried to give us back the plate twice and we made the universal "We're full but we loved it" gestures, while telling him how good the lamb was. He gave us the kind of look you might give someone who put ketchup on their lobster, and took the plate away. On the way back to the kitchen, he showed the plate to another table and everyone laughed and looked at us. He didn't talk to us the rest of the meal, and gave us dirty looks every time he walked by.

3. Today we stopped at a Starbucks for coffee (first time on the trip.) We ordered two coffees, and got them without sleeves, when everyone else in the Starbucks had them. When I came back and asked for a sleeve, one girl gave me a look and I heard her say (in French) something about us being English, and the girl that spoke English told me they were saving the coffee sleeves because they didn't have a lot. Finally, I was sort of rude back and got one sleeve (Dan had to grab some paper towels to be able to hold his coffee) but who were they saving the sleeves for . . . . not the customers?

I really want to like Parisians, so I am holding back judgment for now, but there have definitely been times where I feel that I am acting normally, but am treated like I am violating a serious social rule . . . . not QUITE ready to say they're snobs yet . . . we still have one more day.