It’s an exchange from the 1974 movie “Blazing Saddles.” Always makes me smile.

Sheriff Bart: “Can’t you see it’s the last act of a desperate man?”

Townsman: “I don’t care if it’s the first act of Henry the Fifth.”

So, in our last social act in Paris, here early on the morning of Aug. 21 … we will walk down to the opening of the cul de sac, on Rue de Tresor, about 75 yards …

… and buy some gelato at the Amorino shop on the corner of Rue Vielle du Temple and Saint Croix de Bretonnerie. I’m thinking citron et framboise.

It’s hopping out there. Well, sure. It’s Friday night/Saturday morning. It’s the Marais.

Among the advantages of expat life in Abu Dhabi … one of them is not an ability to walk around the neighborhood on an August night and expect your sorbet to last more than 30 feet or 30 seconds (whichever comes first) in the Gulf night air. It’s a warm night, here in Paris, but it’s not Abu Dhabi warm. So we ought to take advantage while we can, yes?

We will look around at the crowds at the cafes, maybe check out the line around the corner for the comedy club (French-language only, desolee), see if the Lizard Lounge is heating up, if the Cafe Les Philosophes is winding down …

Just enjoy the scenes of street life of a close-quarters but fairly well-heeled community. Because we won’t be going outside at night in Abu Dhabi for another couple of months, and even then, unless you’re in a mall, it’s not like you can walk 100 yards and pass two dozen tourist-oriented businesses, like we will here.

It’s “au revoir, Paree!” The taxi will be here in about eight hours, and Gulf Air will deposit us in Abu Dhabi not long after iftar. Inshallah.

Au revoir, Pee-wee! Au revoir, Simone!