Yves.
There is just 'something' about those French.

My husband bought a black wool cap in Quebec at a hat shop 3 years ago. With his beard, it makes him look French and sometimes when he wears it he pretends to speak French because he knows it drives me wild.

DH and I sometimes go for a lovely 50 mile round trip into Mass. and back home to NY. Our mid point lunch stop is Great Barrington MA. which has some wonderful shops.
We usually just have some apple crepes and latte at a little cafe, but while there one day we discovered the most wonderful shop that sells cheeses and olive oil, dried figs, olive oil soap, hand made sandwiches, good cold cuts, etc.
It's owned by a real Frenchman- Jean-Francoise, and his lovely wife Helene.
The cheese is really from France, and it's really good. There are cheaper cheese shops nearby, but without the French accent so why bother. A little good French cheese goes a long way.

We hire a man to come plow our driveway when we get snows of over 5".
Three years ago a French speaking Quebecois fellow named Benois came to our house looking for snowplow work. We hired him...completely charmed by his je-ne-sai-quois. He was very methodical, putting out tiny red poles along the edges of the driveway so he could plow correctly when there was deep snow obscuring the boundaries. He carried his laptop in his truck and had a cell phone so we could stay in communication on 'iffy' snow days.
Then he disappeared the following winter, and we couldn't get in touch with him- his cell phone number had changed. So we hired another snow plow guy, and he was actually cheaper...but it wasn't the same somehow. He wasn't Benois.
A few weeks ago Benois suddenly phoned us out of the blue and explained that he had had a back injury and surgery and was out of commission last winter and did we want him back? All in his heavy French accent of course. We were overjoyed to have 'our Benois' back again.

Coincidentally, for dinner this evening I had some of Jean-Francois' bleu cheese and crusty bread.