Authors: Steve Jovanoski
Chapter
23
It was a Saturday night, and on rue Mouffetard a mostly younger crowd was packing the bars and pubs. Dave entered the first venue he came across, Universe Bar, where French alternative music blared. The place was tiny and lively. Drinks were cheap, and he figured that it was a university hangout because of the casual dress code and happy-hour signs. He felt eyes all over him as he was scanned and instantly dismissed. It suddenly occurred to him with an uncomfortable lurch in his stomach that he was too old for the place.
Dave
felt self-conscious and out of place. Hanging out alone here was uncomfortable, unlike the excitement he’d experienced in Hong Kong. He couldn’t make eye contact with anyone, even though he knew that all he needed was one person he could spark up a conversation with. People were clustered in their own groups and couldn’t care less about a tourist that stood out. He finished off his drink and left in search of a place more appropriate for him. Up and down the street he went, through a few more places, but they all looked the same. Happy-hour drinks and uni discount signs hung all over the place. The aimless wandering he was doing was beginning to make him feel like he was in Hong Kong again. The night was looking less promising than he’d been hoping for. Finally, he found a more upmarket venue playing dance tunes. It was called The Dancing Frog.
He sat at the bar and struck
up a conversation with the barman, kicking it off with basic greetings.
‘
Bonsoir. Comment ça va?
’ He asked the man how he was, hoping he didn’t screw it up.
‘
Ça va bien, monsieur, et toi
?’ the man replied, asking likewise.
‘
Ça va
.’
‘
Super
.’
‘
Je
m'appelle Dave. Je suis australien
.’ Dave introduced himself. He was thrilled. Normally by this point in the conversation, the person would have already switched to English, sensing Dave’s lack of skill in French.
‘
Oh là là, très loin!
’ the barman said. Dave gave him a dismayed look of confusion; his French had hit a roadblock. ‘You come from very far away,’ continued the barman, switching to English.
His effort at
speaking French was apparently appreciated by the barman. He was given much attention from there on. The barman was a confident chap about five years younger than Dave, and he bragged that he was the best Mojito mixer in all of Paris.
Dave
ordered a Mojito, and indeed it was one of the best he’d had, albeit his first one. He was given a little trivia too, telling him how it was a traditional Cuban highball, whatever that meant.
The barman
was busy and had to attend to customers, leaving Dave free to scan the club while tapping his feet to the beat of the music and trying to look cool. When a girl entered and searched for somewhere to sit, he immediately made room at the bar, gesturing to the seat beside him. Nothing to lose, he said to himself. With an alcohol-induced confidence, he went for the kill.
‘
Hi. You’ll love the drinks here,’ he said, smiling enthusiastically. She looked at him with a confused expression and said something in French. Please speak English, he prayed to himself and repeated his line. Luckily for him, she did speak English—she just hadn’t heard him the first time on account of the loud music.
‘Oh, okay.
I will try.’ She smiled and leaned against the bar, waiting to be served. Her long hair, Mediterranean complexion and oval face reminded Dave vaguely of Sophia Loren. She was wearing black jeans and a conservative top. Suddenly his mind went blank. Here was his chance, but he couldn’t find the right words. One part of him said that she was probably waiting for someone else and that he should play it safe and avoid rejection. Another part urged, ‘Make a move now, you chicken shit, or you’ll regret it later.’
‘Try the Mojito. M
y shout,’ he finally said.
‘That’s okay. I will pay for
it.’ She politely shot down his attempt.
The barman
was observing Dave’s embarrassing rejection and intervened. ‘Mademoiselle,’ he urged with a smile, ‘let the gentleman buy you a drink.’
‘That’s okay. No need.
’ The girl turned him down politely and picked up the drink menu. The barman placed his hands on the bar and leaned over to her, speaking in French. The girl blushed at whatever he’d said and nodded.
‘Two Mojitos coming u
p, compliments of the gentleman,’ he winked at Dave and began mixing the drinks.
‘My name is Maria
,’ she said, extending a hand.
‘
Mine’s Dave. Nice to meet you,’ she replied. He was stunned. What the hell did he say to her? he wondered.
‘You are from very far away?’ she asked.
‘Yes, a very long distance. Do you live in Paris?’ Dave inquired.
‘I am staying here with my aunt and uncle. I’m from Portugal.’
‘Portugal? Do you have Nando’s in Portugal?’ He flinched the moment the words were out of his mouth. What an idiot, he thought. Have I destroyed that many brain cells?
‘Nando’s? What is this
?’ Maria looked at him inquisitively.
‘
Er, it’s a fast-food restaurant chain, very popular in Australia.’
‘No, I have never heard of it.’ She took her time with her words. ‘Sorry. My English is bad, but I like to practi
se.’
‘You’re doing well. You can practi
se on me as much as you want.’ He gave her a cheeky look that seemed lost in translation.
When
the barman handed them the drinks, they raised their glasses and clinked them. Dave liked Maria. He found her cute when she was trying hard to pronounce words correctly.
‘I don’t normally drink alcohol,’ she said.
‘This is not strong. Do you like it?’
‘It’s very nice, yes.’
More people poured into the now-cramped space around the bar, and they kept getting jostled.
‘Would you like to go for a walk? I mean,
check out another place?’ Dave asked, trying his luck but not wanting to push it.
‘Yes, I like to,’ she answered with a smile.
He looked straight into her large black eyes. Maria wasn’t a stunning girl, but she
had a sweet prettiness about her. Her cheeks were round and her olive skin perfectly smooth. Her blouse hid well-rounded breasts that made his heart pump faster every time he stole a glimpse. The couple finished their drinks and prepared to leave.
Dave called
the barman to say goodbye and to satisfy his curiosity. ‘What did you say to her?’ he asked.
‘I
told her you are a famous movie celebrity from Australia who is doing research for a new movie here in Paris, but you don’t want to tell anyone and would deny it if she asked.’ He winked and Dave laughed.
‘Thanks, mate,’ he said, shaking the barman’s hand.
‘My pleasure and good luck,’ the man gave him the thumbs up.
They walk
ed outside and Dave nearly tripped on the stairs, making a fool of himself in their first moments alone together. That must be a record, he thought to himself. To his relief, she giggled and caringly helped him stay upright. That’s when Dave got to check her out properly. Her behind was large, huge in fact, but he didn’t mind. She was cute, friendly, and it wasn’t as if he had a list of girls to call on. He’d embrace the moment and just go with it, without inhibitions. He’d leave Julia behind and do his best.
They entered one of the uni bars where the drinks were cheap and cheesy music pandered to the ears of baby-fat patrons.
‘How about another cocktail?’ Dave asked.
‘I really shouldn’t,’ Maria replied demurely. Her cheeks had already turned rosy from the Mojito.
‘You really should. I can’t drink alone,’ Dave protested in jest.
She hesitated and then decided. ‘All right, I make exception for tonight.’
‘Great!’ He
called the waitress over, who brought complimentary peanuts with her and placed the bowl on their table. He picked up the drink menu and ordered the first alcoholic cocktail he saw. ‘Can we have banana splits, please?’
‘
Sure, two banana splits.’ The pretty waitress acknowledged and bounced away.
‘
So,’ Dave asked Maria, ‘what are you doing in Paris?’
‘I am here learning French
, and I also do babysitting jobs,’ she replied shyly.
‘Where is your boyfriend?’ Dave prodded
with cheek. She shied away again. He found her increasingly sweet.
‘
I don’t have one.’
‘Really? A cute thing like you?’
‘I used to, but I broke up with him.’
‘Why? Didn’t you like him?’
‘He was very nice at the start, but then he changed.’
‘What happened?’ Dave kept
prodding unashamedly.
‘He was a very jealous guy. He never let me go out by myself, only with his sister or mother. He wanted me to just stay home to look after his mother. I couldn’t even work.’
‘That’s not a healthy relationship. What was wrong with him?’
‘Well, he was
religious. But he was very religious, you understand?’
‘You mean, like a fundamentalist?’
‘A fundamentalist?’
‘Yes, someone who is very strict about his faith. Maybe he talks about God all the time.’
‘Oh, yes, and want me to cover up.
’ Maria was struggling for the right word, gesturing to her face.
‘
Cover up your body’
‘
Yes, when I went out in public.’
‘Was he upset
when you broke up with him?’
‘No. He was not happy, but he was not for me
. He thinks women are easy and corrupt. He was crazy.’
Dave dug his hands into the bowl of peanuts and crunched away
. His confidence was at a high, and he felt just right. Their drinks were brought over to their table with fizzing sparklers inside, like a kid’s birthday cake. It brought attention to their table and people looked in their direction, but Dave didn’t feel self-conscious. They let the sparklers burn out, did a cheers and each took a sip.
‘
And you?’
‘Me?
‘What do you do? In Australia?’
‘I don’t do anything at the moment.’
‘You are an actor, no?’ It was her turn to probe. Dave laughed and dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand.
‘No, I’m not a
n actor.’
‘It’s okay. I know already.’
‘No, really I’m not.’ Dave noticed people looking at them from the adjoining table. The three girls and their two male companions had been eavesdropping on the conversation. One leaned over to Maria and whispered something. Maria nodded and the girl gave him a smile. ‘Is everything all right?’ Dave asked.
‘Yes.’ Maria smiled back at him.
‘What did she say to you?’
‘She asked whether you really are a
n actor. I said yes, from Australia.’ Maria seemed proud, as if Dave were her catch for the evening.
‘Well,’ he paused, ‘let’s not talk about it, if that’s
all right.’ He raised his glass at the nearby table, and they responded with nods and beaming smiles. What the hell, he thought to himself.
The music volume in the small bar kept rising to the point
where they couldn’t hear themselves think, let alone talk. A back-and-forth shouting match ensued until Dave had had enough.
‘
Let’s get out of here,’ he shouted over the din. ‘It’s too loud!’ Maria nodded in agreement.
Out in the open air they realised just how loud the bar
had been by the ringing in their ears. By then, it was 3:00 in the morning. Most venues were closing up and kebab outlets were picking up the crowds. Dave and Maria walked into one last bar where R&B music was playing, but ten minutes later they left. The place seemed like a sinking ship where only a handful of desperate guys still hung out. He felt sorry for them but was glad he wasn’t in their shoes.
Dave had taken the initiative to lead and Maria was happy to tag along
with any of his suggestions. It seemed like she was his, and all he had to do was make the move. They hung around outside, wondering what to do while he contemplated how to move to the next stage and get hands-on with Maria. His confidence was at a high, and he had no inhibitions, so what was stopping him? It was the fear he may not be able to go through with it. He was scared he’d back out of it again as he’d done before.
‘Let’s just go for a walk,’ h
e suggested.
‘Okay
.’ Maria happily obliged. Make a move, Dave, he said to himself. But do what? How should he just turn to her and kiss her? Surely she wouldn’t back away—if she did, that would destroy his confidence entirely. But why would that happen? She was still there with him. Before he had the chance to think up another useless excuse and further waste time, Maria stopped. Oh no, he thought; she’s going home.