At one point, Bruno Dauchet hung around with us and another of his French Cadet buddies (Dominique Jamaux or “Domi”). Either Bruno or Domi decided that he needed a shaving kit – something a bit more sophisticated than the blue nylon five-and-dime Dopp Kit bags we were issued. So, a bunch of us headed downtown to the Citadel Mall on our way out to paint the town blue. I think it was me, Jon Ball, Mike Narkiewicz, Terry Kemp and the two French guys.
We dropped into the main “anchor” store (Macy’s?), and rolled over to the Men’s section and Toiletries. Domi, I think, then leaned over the counter towards the quite attractive young lady behind it, and says in his best, sexiest, accented voice, “I would like a douche-bag...” One very confused sales girl . . . and immediate panic on the part of us ‘mericans around him . . . with four guys simultaneously talking . . . all saying something to the extent of, “Ah . . . no, what he wants is a shaving kit, a Dopp Kit . . .” Eventually the confusion was resolved. Domi couldn’t be blamed. As cadets, we called our shaving kits “douche-bags” – semi-rude and insulting, and in keeping with most of the cadet lingo. This of course, made perfect sense to Domi and the other French cadets, since the word “douche” in French means “shower.” They were again rather surprised at the language differentials, especially on finding out the true purpose of an American douche-bag.