Our friend Bags was the queen of the Nice public beach. Well, she had to be because she was the oldest lady, hands down. She looked like a corpse, like she hadn't eaten in years with leather skin stretched across 'dem bones, cigarette dangling out of her mouth, and yelling in French. And, of course, topless -- c'mon, it's France! Bags didn't come to the beach for a few days. We thought she was dead. Fortunately, the bags was back a few days later. I think she's immortal.