Tavern Tales In this section you'll find true Paris stories as they happened. The names have sometimes been changed and/or eliminated to protect the innocent---and not so innocent. But for those of you veterans who happen to know your math, well, figuring out who's who in these tales might be as easy as ordering a tankard of ale. The whereabouts of Paris' fine tailor revealed...   Fashion Frenzy swept the streets of Paris, with the announcement of the grand All-Hallows-Eve ball this last October. Everyone from Barons and Baronesses to the noblest Grands and Grandes were tearing apart their wardrobes and rushing to the shops in order to put together the most respectable outfits. One ArchDuchess was so eager to please her King and Queen that she pulled out all the stops...this is her story as reported to us by an anonymous citizen/want to be reporter: ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A well-to-do Archduchess was seen running to Percerin's, in nothing but her bath robe, in the dark of night, with no light (seems she left her lantern behind or perhaps was trying to be stealth about it) just hours before the grand All Hallows Eve Ball!!! I followed the Archduchess upon her visit to the shop and hid behind the counter as she stormed back into the storeroom. This is when I uncovered that she had poor old Percerin locked in his back room working overtime to finish her debuted fashion. ArchDuchess: How much longer Percy?? You know the ball is just hours away! Do you expect me to go in this robe?!?! Percerin: I am sorry m'lady I am working as fast as my hands can sew... ArchDuchess: BAH! Well for your sake I hope those hands finish my skirt in time. I cannot be late! Why am I paying you all this money? Percerin: Perhaps m'lady it is because I am the only one who can make the garment? ArchDuchess: Hmmmm, indeed! Well I have brought you some bread and water, no ale for you however lest you end up sewing it inside out! Percerin: I thank thee m'lady. ArchDuchess: Also I have taken the liberty of bringing your chamber pot....so there should be no excuses to leave this room until it is done! With that the Archduchess stormed out of the room (careful to lock it up from the outside) and out the door cautiously lest she be seen in such a scandalous position. I could hear poor old Percerin grumbling behind his caged door and muttering something about how he thought perhaps he should have been a monk. In an interview later, after his release, Percerin stated that she paid him well although she was quick to watch over every detail. When asked if the good tailor would be accepting any other rush commissions he sighed and stated "Thank the gracious God that royal functions happen only a few times a year". Ah the things we do in the name of fashion… OH Boy! OH Boots?   We all strive to be noble in manner and of course in dress. While the ladies have a bit more selection in the noble attire department, the gentleman seem to be struggling abit. One Duc in particular, we know (from an inside source), tried out every outfit combination he owned to no avail. Seems perhaps he looked the richest and noblest in nothing at all *cough* This is the story.... On a chilly, late September day the good Bishop met her dear friend, whom we will refer to as the Duc, at the Louvre before heading for a end of day drink at the local tavern. They greeted with a hug and a hello amongst the busy crowd before the Counsellor. With all the eager citizens returning from their questing the pious Bishop too little notice of her escorts attire. After brief conversation with the other locals they decided to head to the tavern and end their busy days with a fine tankard of ale. The always polite Duc hailed a carriage for them and allowed the good Bishop to enter first, as all ladies of course should. Once seated inside, the Duc entered and took his place next to his friend. What happened next will certainly knock the boots off anyone...including our much taken aback Bishop. Bishop: As I took my seat my dear friend entered the carriage.....as I was situating myself I finally took notice of my escort's attire and to my surprise he was richly decorated in the expensive clothes of a noble. I of course cheered him repeatedly before taking a closer look....imagine my surprise to see he was wearing nothing but SASH AND BOOTS! Unable to control my laughter, the poor Duc looked puzzled at what I found so amusing. Finally pulling myself together I managed to tell him he was finally a man of nobility! Surprised to say the least the good Duc took a look at himself only then to realize the "display". He quickly dressed himself, blushing from head to *cough*! Still laughing I said, "Perhaps that nobility is something you should share with your wife, and settle instead for being merely highly respectable in public."   Has to make you wonder though what that noble sash was hiding eh? Must have been something for everyone to stare and not say a word *tut-tut* Young men in demand!   It has been brought to the attention of our reporters that the Leg of Lamb Tavern has been booming with citizens eager to obtain the services of a loyal hired hand. However it seems that not everyone is using them to hold their extra goods or to do work around the home. This news of course took me directly to the tavern to get the scoop, and this is the story..... As I walk in I am nearly overrun by the masses of people coming in and out. I take a seat at a sticky, tankard-covered table next to a handsome nobleman, drunken of course. Reporter: Greetings my friend! I have heard that there has been alot of demand in these parts lately for hired help. Drunken Nobleman: That be true madame, but there is some funny business about it I do believe. Reporter: Care to give me a little story about what you have seen? After some suave talking and another tankard of ale the drunken man spilled the beans. Drunken Nobleman: Well just the other night a high-ranking churchie comes in here...first looking for a mercenary she says. I believe it was for a friend, or that is what she said. Of course at the word "churchie" my ears perked up and my quill was ready. Drunken Nobleman: So after some time she bought the man and ordered him loyal to her friend, you see. But I reckon she liked the looks of 'em cause she decided to hire one of her own. "I am here to pick up a young man!", she shouted out. Trying to hold back the smirk I order my source another tankard to keep his tongue loose. Drunken Nobleman: Now see she was a picky one this churchie. She didn't want no mercenary or veteran. She wanted herself a YOUNG MAN. These other men were a coming and a going....but she paid them no mind. Reporter: Did you see her talking to anyone else while she was here? Drunken Nobleman: No madame, she just sat herself her and watched the door. After a good bit of time she stood up, angry looking as I ever saw a churchie and said, "Why are only these old wrinkly men coming to me! I will have you all know I am young and in my prime!" Reporter: What happened next? Drunken Nobleman: She peered about then took up her things and stomped out. But I believe I overheard her saying to the barmaid something about next time she comes in she wants herself a chiseled young man to command and she would settle for nothing less! Trying my hardest to contain my laughter I bought the old drunk another tankard and took my leave. It has to make you wonder though what goes on up in that belltower, no?   © 2000 Copyright All Rights Reserved Design and Layout by Web Imagery.