I believe there’s an international school or a hostel on Van Ness, because I often hear hip, young French folks parlez les français. Last week, I watched a group of French students tote a ridiculously large graduation balloon on a full bus. One of them asked me if we had a name for the pinchy chip-clip thing that’s often attached to mylar balloons. I called it a clip, but perhaps balloon enthusiasts will know more. Though I sadly couldn’t get a photo of that one, we at least have this: more French stuff on a Van Ness line.
I take 47s and 49s — pardon, les quarante-septs et les quarante-neufs — all the time and it’s always a treat when I come up on such students. It helps me think dreamily of Paris instead of the yelling guy who shows up on the 47 in the early evenings.