I am escorted to a table at a restaurant by a charming Frenchman. I sit on the table on a cushion. It is a bit uncomfortable. He offers to fluff the pillows. I say, "Can I fix it so I can just lean back?" He said, "No, sorry that won't work." He holds a food tray and eloquently, with dramatic flair, pours me a drink which is a mixture of white and red wine. I taste it and pronounce it delicious. I hear Maurice Chevalier singing and am pleased that such a famous singer I had the privilege to hear. He and the Frenchman are sort of the same. The Frenchman kisses me. It is pleasant. He asks me if I want to take a bath (hot tub?) and I agree, realizing that what he really means is we will make love now. We walk into a crowded part of the restaurant. The waiter has a roasted rabbit and the Frenchman (owner of restaurant) says loudly so everyone can hear him, "I see no one wants our fine rabbit dish. I am not afraid. It is delicious. Serve me some." The waiter carves off a roasted leg (looks like chicken leg).