PARIS — Well into the evening on Saturday, outside a cafe on a small street running through the South Paris neighborhood of Vaugirard, a scrambling server dropped a beer bottle. It popped on the sidewalk, smashed into a million teeny pieces, and sent streams of suds running through the cracks in the concrete.
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The server let out a guttural ugh and, pairing heavy eyes with a wry smile, said, “I didn’t expect all of you.”
This poor man was trying to serve a growing crowd filling the 20 or so small round tables outside Crêperie Ty Fanch. A large television was positioned to face outward to the street for the France-United States
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