Thursdays were half days at the Ecole Internationale. We'd get out every Thursday
at noonish and take the tram over to the right back to go to the Wendy's there.
Every week, I had the same thing: a double burger. We'd sit in this unusual
downstairs room that was sort of like a 70s basement: no windows, walls done up
with those mirrors with gold veins. We'd cause a ruckus down there, as much as
thirteen-year-olds can, and then head out into the streets armed with straws and
napkins to pelt cars with spitballs.