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If you have to work a shit job, it may as well be at an airport snack bar. Especially the one at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris. The customers speak lots of languages, so you can’t tell when they are chewing you out. They don’t understand the currency, which occasionally results in an accidental big tip. They’re in a hurry, so they don’t hog the tables for long. They don’t notice how awful the food is since they’re mostly not French. And it’s a great place to plan to kill your boss. I’ve been thinking about bumping off Emile