Sleeping With Paris (15 page)

At the end of the night, no matter who I was with, it always came back to Jeff. I guess that was normal since it had barely been a few weeks since the break-up. But after this most unsuccessful date, I truly missed him. I would not be writing him an email to boast about the horrible date I’d just had though. Instead, I called Lexi when I got home to dish about the ridiculousness of the night.

She laughed so hard she could barely breathe when I told her about the “I love you.”

“What a freak!” She laughed heartily into the phone. “Get used to it though. Guys pull some weird shit over here.”

“Seriously.”

 “Hey, so we’re still on for tomorrow night, right?”

“Yeah, I’m really excited. I’m going to bring my friend Fiona from class if that’s cool with you.”

“Just make sure she’s ready for a wild night. It’s going to be crazy.”

“I have no doubt it will be,” I said as I smiled to myself.

Before bed, I logged into my blog. My hits were soaring, with more comments from women I didn’t know. Most of the women were loving it, but I did get a comment from Janie in Georgia calling me a “man-hater.” Wow. At least I was provoking some strong emotions in my readers. I began typing.

More lessons on how to avoid love in the City of Love:

Rule #1 – Date lots of men and don’t apologize for it. Until a commitment is clearly stated on both ends, you have no obligations to any of the men you are seeing. If one of them tries to make you feel guilty for seeing another one, forget him. Do you know for sure that he isn’t seeing other people too? Remember, this is all a game to them, and instead of being a victim of the game, you are now an active player. That means playing the field, seeing what’s out there, and having a damn good time in the process! This brings me to my next point:

Rule #2 – Do not, under any circumstances, allow the men you are dating to meet each other. This is an extremely awkward situation that should be avoided at all costs. Since we’re smart women, this shouldn’t be too difficult to pull off, but every once in a while, even a smart woman can find herself in an unpleasant run-in with two of her prospective men.

If you do find yourself in this situation, don’t guilt yourself to death. They probably have other women waiting in the wings too.

Case in Point:

As I was on my way to the metro to meet a French police officer for our first date, I spotted Half-Naked French Hottie ahead of me. I overheard him telling another woman that he loves her over the phone. Of course he was going to the same metro stop as me, so he ended up meeting my date, then giving me a sad, desperate look as I left with my handsome police officer. What right did he have to make me feel guilty after I had just overheard the end of his lovey-dovey conversation with some other woman? Not to mention the fact that he hadn’t even tried to get in touch with me after the mind-blowing sex and chocolate experience a couple of nights ago.  

And last, but definitely not least:

Rule #3 – Don’t put up with crazy behavior. Period. If a guy pulls something weird, get out now. Remember, you’re in this to have fun, not to be sketched out and uncomfortable. You are too fabulous and smart for that.

Do guys ever put up with crazy behavior from us? No, never. They run for the hills as fast as their little penises will carry them.

So, if a guy acts like a horny teenage boy and tries to accost you in a movie theater, or if he expresses his undying love for you after your first date, he’s a goner. Yes, both of those things happened to me tonight. I’m exhausted.

Twelve

samedi, le 9 octobre

Climbing onto a bus with a wild rugby team in the middle of the night is never a good idea.

Fiona called me the next morning sounding nervous. “What are you wearing tonight?” she asked.

“I’m not sure . . . I haven’t really thought about it yet. Probably just jeans, a tank top and heels. It’s still pretty warm out.”

“So you’re not getting really dressed up or anything, right? I just don’t want to be underdressed or overdressed, you know?”

“Yeah, I’d just go for jeans and a cute top—nothing too fancy.” It was clear that Fiona didn’t get out much, and I was starting to worry that asking her to come out with Lexi may not have been the best idea.

“I know. I just haven’t been out in a while. Andrew and I were together for so long that I think I’ve forgotten how to go out and have a good time . . . pathetic, I know.”

“It’s not pathetic,” I assured her, “but it’s time to get back out there and start meeting some new people. I mean, we’re in Paris! What have you got to lose?”

“I know, you’re right. Tonight’s going to be fun,” she said, sounding a little more convinced. “Oh, I almost forgot to ask, how did your date go last night?”

“Ugh, don’t ask!”

“That bad?”

“Well, let’s just say that I literally ran away from him after he told me he loved me because I think he was about to propose marriage.”

Fiona gasped. “What? He told you he loved you? On the first date?”

“Mmhmm . . .
after
he tried take off my pants during the movie.”

“What a creep! That’s disgusting. See, that’s why I haven’t wanted to meet anyone—they’re all freaks.”

“I know . . . some of them are pretty bad, but at least it makes for a good story.”

“Did you tell him you don’t want to see him again?”

“No, I didn’t have time. I ran away too fast.”

“What are you going to say if he calls you again?”

“Um, I probably won’t answer the phone, or I’ll just tell him to leave me alone. That date was totally ridiculous, I don’t even feel bad about blowing him off.”

“And what about the other guy you’ve been seeing . . .” she paused, probably wondering just how many guys there were.

“Luc?”

“Yeah, Luc. Is he normal at least?”

“Well, normal for a guy a guess. They all seem to be a little messed up. But don’t let it discourage you from going out. We’re going to have fun tonight, and if there are any crazies, we’ll stick together. Don’t worry.” Between Fiona being worried about stepping foot in a bar and Lexi who would probably go home with any guy in the bar, I could tell we had an interesting night ahead of us.

***

I left my place at ten o’clock to meet up with Fiona and Lexi at a bar in the 5
^th
arrondissement called The Long Hop.

After exiting the metro, I’d no more than stepped one high-heeled foot into the crosswalk on boulevard St. Germain before a man on a cherry red scooter raced past me and just about ran me over.

“Hey!” I shouted after him as I stumbled backward over the curb and slammed into someone.

I swiveled around to find three young French guys, as slim as the cigarettes they were smoking, sizing me up.

“
Vous êtes américaine, ma princesse
?” one of them asked me as a dirty grin spread across his bony face.

My princess
?
Was he serious?

Without responding, I looked both ways to make sure there weren’t any more drag-racing scooters and jetted across the street to the bar.

I realized that walking around Paris at night by myself wasn’t the best idea. Not that I felt unsafe here. It just seemed that whenever a pack of French guys spotted me walking alone, all dressed up to go out, they couldn’t keep their comments to themselves. Maybe next time I’d take a cab straight to the bar.

Michael Jackson’s “Billy Jean” pounded through the speakers as I shoved my way across the packed dance floor and finally spotted my friends.

Lexi, as usual, had on a hot little number which made every guy in the bar stop, stare, and drool as she walked past. And Fiona surprised me. I thought she’d show up in a pink polo shirt with a khaki skirt or something equally conservative, but instead, she was sporting a tight, florescent pink tank top with a pair of slim, dark jeans and sexy, black strappy heels.

I introduced the two girls as we strutted our stuff over to the bar to buy our first round of drinks. The bar was packed with way more guys than girls, and it was a wild crowd. Lexi and I downed our drinks while Fiona sipped hers, and then we made our way out to the dance floor together.

We danced for a good half an hour, just the three of us, in the middle of a booming dance floor. Lexi and I fought to keep our space on the floor, throwing elbows to keep scummy guys away from us. Fiona’s eyes darted around the room as she stepped her feet from side to side in time with the bumping bass. I hoped she’d loosen up a bit once the alcohol hit her.

“I’m heading to the ladies room. Anyone else need to go?” Lexi yelled over the music.

“Yeah, I’ll come with you,” Fiona yelled back.

“I’ll stay here and hold down the fort,” I assured them while busting a move to a Madonna song. The French definitely had a thing for American eighties music.

Right after the girls left, two French guys approached me. They were both sporting painfully tight black jeans and skin-hugging blue t-shirts which showcased their thin builds, and they had military-style haircuts. I wondered if they were in the police force with Frédéric and if they were going to tell me how much they loved me after five minutes of talking to me.

“We heard you speak English,” one of the boys yelled over the music in a strong French accent.

“Yes, that’s right, I was speaking English,” I said sarcastically. I wasn’t really feeling it. These boys were not my type.

“So, you are American or English?” the other one asked, giving me a slimy smile.

“American,” I said dryly as I kept dancing, hoping the girls would come back soon so I could get rid of them.

“Oh, zee American girl. I love zee American girl.” They both grinned at me while they attempted to dance in their ball-hugging jeans. Oh dear. This was quite the sight.

“Where are you from?”

“California,” I lied. No reason to tell the truth here. Might as well have some fun with the situation.

“Oh Caleefornia, I love Caleefornia!” one of them replied, while the other one did a hysterical raise-the-roof gesture with his hands. I held in my laughter.

“Zat is why you are so beauteeful, all of the Caleefornia girls are beauteeful,” Raise the Roof Guy said as he tried to take my hand to dance with me.

I yanked my hand away and asked them, “So, are you guys police officers?”

“Oh no, we are in zee army, and we are brothers. You like zee army man, no?”

What? The army man? Normally, yes, I like the army man, but our military guys at home wear baggy pants. In this instance, the army men were wearing jeans so tight that they were probably becoming more sterile by the minute.

“Mmmm . . . yes. Army, very nice,” I replied, not really knowing how to respond to that.

“You are zee perfect girl . . . you will have my baby?”

Okay, that was it. They were kind of funny at first, but now they were getting a little too out of control. Have their baby?! Where did Fiona and Lexi go? I turned around to search for my friends so I could escape. And that’s when my gaze landed on an even more hilarious sight than the one I was currently trapped in.

Fiona and Lexi were surrounded by the most massive group of guys I’d ever seen. And I don’t mean massive as in numbers. I mean massive as in huge. As in giant-sized men.

Lexi danced up a storm in the center of the group while all of the enormous boys hooped, hollered and chugged pints of beer. Fiona just stood there with wide eyes, staring up at the giants towering over her.

“Sorry guys, I have to go meet my friends,” I told the ball-hugging Army men as I fled the scene to find out who in the world these mammoth hunks were.

I pushed my way past one of the giants to get to Fiona, who breathed a sigh of relief when she saw me.

“Who are these guys?” I yelled into her ear.

“English rugby players. They’re crazy!” Fiona yelled back.

“Well, hello gorgeous girls,” a tall, handsome rugby player said to me and Fiona as he shook our hands.

“Hello, tall, handsome man,” I replied back.

He flashed a charming smile. “I’m Dean, and you are?”

Wow, I loved, loved, loved his accent. And his huge muscles.

“I’m Charlotte, and this is Fiona.”

“It’s wonderful to meet you, Charlotte and Fiona. What can I get you two lovely ladies to drink?” Dean was less barbaric than his other rugby buddies who were now chanting some unrecognizable song and stomping their feet so hard that the floor was actually trembling.

“I’m fine,” Fiona said, trying to avoid the drink.

“Oh come on, you’ve only had one drink so far tonight!” I prodded her toward the bar as Dean led the way.

“I know, but I just don’t want to get too out of control.”