And here's to you, Mrs. Robinson
Ok, fantasyland with the young boy are over. My time – as Cafedelasoul’s creator Robin so wickedly called me – as “Demi” are over! That didn’t last long, now, did it (okay, a little over a month!)? But don’t worry; it gave me tons of confidence to date my little brains out here in the City of Light and Love. If anything, I pity the next one (smile)! And “The Perils” of dating someone who works in a café you like. No more lunch café! Man…
I can’t stress enough the importance of being a “regular” here in Paris. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Case in point: I was having coffee at my morning café. A group of men were at the bar when I passed by. Apparently one of them whistled at me and made some kind of “gesture.” I didn’t see or hear it. Granted, I saw one of them looking at me, but kept going about my business. The guys behind the bar heard him and told him to knock it off. Shoving began, along with mad gesturing at me. At which point, his friends stand up. At which time the regulars in the bar stand up. More shoving. The one who made the gesture starts coming toward me. He tried to approach me and asked to talk to me. By now I’m a bit freaked out. But his way is being blocked by the manager, who pushes him out of the cafe. Ten minutes later, both return and the drama ends. When I asked what happened, this was the debrief: Pierre told him that kind of behavior toward me was not okay. The problem began when the guy tried to deny he’d done anything; and when he tried to approach me. The boys in the café know that I’m in Paris alone and (it seems) have taken quite a big brother-type of role toward me during my time here. While I consider myself completely capable of taking care of myself, I also admit it feels good knowing others are looking out for me!
New Year’s Eve. I was really concerned about being on my own during the holidays and my fears were simply unfounded. The night was amazing. My friend Alex suggested dinner, which was such a thoughtful thing to do. He’s a sweetie who should have been out painting the town red! But we had a nice dinner at my place (and champagne), cheese (and a nice champagne), and a bevy of desserts (and wine!) and talked until the wee hours of the morning. I really enjoy the opportunity to understand how the French see America and Americans, and to talk about politics, art, relationships, whatever. I’m starting to feel like I have a place in Paris, and starting to make French friends like I wanted. Now it’s back to work!
I can’t stress enough the importance of being a “regular” here in Paris. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Case in point: I was having coffee at my morning café. A group of men were at the bar when I passed by. Apparently one of them whistled at me and made some kind of “gesture.” I didn’t see or hear it. Granted, I saw one of them looking at me, but kept going about my business. The guys behind the bar heard him and told him to knock it off. Shoving began, along with mad gesturing at me. At which point, his friends stand up. At which time the regulars in the bar stand up. More shoving. The one who made the gesture starts coming toward me. He tried to approach me and asked to talk to me. By now I’m a bit freaked out. But his way is being blocked by the manager, who pushes him out of the cafe. Ten minutes later, both return and the drama ends. When I asked what happened, this was the debrief: Pierre told him that kind of behavior toward me was not okay. The problem began when the guy tried to deny he’d done anything; and when he tried to approach me. The boys in the café know that I’m in Paris alone and (it seems) have taken quite a big brother-type of role toward me during my time here. While I consider myself completely capable of taking care of myself, I also admit it feels good knowing others are looking out for me!
New Year’s Eve. I was really concerned about being on my own during the holidays and my fears were simply unfounded. The night was amazing. My friend Alex suggested dinner, which was such a thoughtful thing to do. He’s a sweetie who should have been out painting the town red! But we had a nice dinner at my place (and champagne), cheese (and a nice champagne), and a bevy of desserts (and wine!) and talked until the wee hours of the morning. I really enjoy the opportunity to understand how the French see America and Americans, and to talk about politics, art, relationships, whatever. I’m starting to feel like I have a place in Paris, and starting to make French friends like I wanted. Now it’s back to work!
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