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I was cycling through a small France village about two years ago. Somewhere on top of a hill with old houses. Was awesome. Then I saw this grandpa, riding his old-school road bike in his sunday outfit with a beret on his hat, slowly riding next to the sidewalk. His handlebars were flipped upside down and he had his baguette stuck in the brake levers. He had a rear rack with a bouquet of roses on it. Now that is gangster :)
Go home Paris, you're drunk