A lazy mathematician

I made an nice acquaintance. It's a guy from Algeria. He looks completely like a French, at least not like a Muslim. His slight accent, though, betrays his foreign origin. He's a painter but he cannot make money as an artist so he, mathematician, works at the same time at a famous French gas company. He loves blue colors and all the time makes jokes about his 'manias' and about everything around reacting vividly to any comment or phrase of mine. His and our manias concern everything in our everyday life; I think the way we organize space we inhabit is marked to a great extant by our phobias and manias.

I came to his perfectly clean flat in a close South Parisian suburb, and my mission was to clean it even better. "Don't you regret of coming here?" he asked. "Of course not. I'll always find what to do even when there's nothing to do". He explained meanwhile his philosophy of the "fainéant", of a lazy man: "I hate doing a lot of job, so I prefer to do it gradually, in small portions. For example, it's better to wash a cup of coffee right away, as soon as I finish my coffee. I never leave an unwashed dish for the next day, I can't sleep if I know there's something not done. I wash it, only then I go to bed and my mind is zen. I iron all of my chemises in advance because in the morning I only have 30 seconds to put one on."

When I came he first made me coffee, natural, strong, tasty, not in a capsule coffee machine, offered some chocolate fait maison. As it took some time I wondered, "Am I going to work today at all?"
His womanish manners (is he gay?), his laughter, his jokes... I had an impression to have met a very educated person, generous, attentive, with his mind open... So this visit was not really cleaning someone's apartment but like a good friends' meeting.

I also learnt something important: amour, love in French, is in singular a masculine noun, but mes amours (plural) becomes feminine...

UPD
One of these days, Mr Lazy met me with coffee - so that I could talk about my numerous projects before cleaning his flat - and, after I finished, dined me handsomely without asking if I were hungry. He just did it. Later, when I thanked him for his (so touching) gesture of a gentleman, he said that he did nothing extraordinary and that I deserved it.

That's everything you have to know about the rare exceptions living in Paris area.