After a bad day, I pamper myself by mapping out, hour by hour, scene by scene, a fantasy date with Jean Reno.
Most women laugh when I tell them this: In their eyes Jean Reno is a comic relief, a blundering buffoon, the kind of guy who would take a woman to Denny's and then order two cheeseburgers without bothering to ask her what she wants.
"Jean Reno?" they hoot. "He's not a fantasy date. He's your fantasy date's goofy friend who's always butting into quality time with your fantasy date."
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