jamais deux sans trois

On the plane from Reykjavík to Paris, I saw some crazy outfits. This one guy in particular (left). I arrived in Paris Monday around noon, and was greeted by my pal Antoine. I immediately knew I should not have left behind the clothes I did. The weight did not amount to much, and it would have been good to have what I left behind. Oh well. Antoine made cookies that night, and there was an impromptu dinner party with his roommates Julie, Mossen and Nedjmaand their friend Adrian. Everyone claimed to speak poor English, but they really didn't. Nedjmaand was the funniest... she insisted she spoke NO English, but she understood most of what I said. I, on the other hand, truly spoke very poor French, and could not follow along much. Adrian teased me about the cheese we were eating, warning me of its pungent nature and "offensive" taste (it was fine!). He also chastised me for only having two cookies, while everyone else had three. "We say here, 'never two without three. jamais deux sans trois.'"