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Thursday, April 27, 2006 

My Brush with "CeWEBrity"

I've been sidelined for a couple of days with a migraine, but the story continues...

April 12, 2006

I was checking my email in an internet cafe when my phone rang.

Apparently I talk very loudly - judging from all the "shhh!" I received.

"Hello, Buzzgirl? This is Eric from ParisDailyPhoto."

We made plans to meet that afternoon. I had a couple of hours, so I went to the Place des Voges to sit, read and relax:



Soon enough, it was time for me to head back to the steps of the Opéra Bastille and wait. After a few minutes, I heard the "beep beep" of a motorcycle horn. I ignored it. Beeping again. I looked up, and someone is waving to me. I think. I couldn't tell - I couldn't see a face, just a helmet. I waved back, and he drove off. I was a little confused.

Yes, it was Eric. He had just gone to park. We walked around a bit, and he showed me the location of this favorite PDP picture. He took me down trendy (at night, anyway) rue de Lappe. Since it was midday, not a lot was open. Finally, we found a small spot to sit and eat lunch. We talked about all kinds of things, notably socialized medicine, unemployment and macarons! We sat outside in the sun, but it threatened to rain, hitting us with a few drops. Luckily, the weather decided to cooperate, and we remained dry.

After lunch, he (of course) pulled out his camera. He took a couple of photos of me at the table, but said was displeased with the background. I gave him some Girl Scout Cookies - which he knew nothing about!!

He was great (and easy on the eyes, if you know what I'm saying!), and I would have loved to have had more time to hang out with him, but he had an appointment to get to. I walked him back to his motorcycle, and he asked me to sit on the Opéra's steps so he could take another photo. "And hold these," he said, giving me the cookies.

After he took his pictures, I took mine. Here's the one that I think is Eric in a nutshell: him looking thru the lens of his camera.



I had to leave early the next morning to go to Caen to meet my daughter, so I figured I would spend some time packing all my stuff, so I wouldn't have to rush in the morning, so I went back to my room and got everything ready to go.

Later that evening, I had plans to meet up with Scottie for dinner. Through a series of text messages, it was determined that we would meet up at a bar. When I got there, I waited for him to finish his drink, and we went to a different place. When we got to the second place, the first thing we saw upon entering was an older woman talking to a young man who had a cat on a leash. Okay. We ordered drinks, and stood at the bar talking. The woman heard us speaking English and asked where we were from. I told her I was from the United States. She told us that more than thirty years before she had been a student at the University of Michigan, and that her roommate had been a "black lady, like you." Okay. Meanwhile, her son (the guy with the cat) was getting agitated, repeating "Qu'est-ce que tu dis?" which she ignored.

When she found out my date was from Scotland, she was very excited. She had had a great teacher from Scotland, and was very enthusiastic in her invitation to join her at a philisophical discussion that was to be held later that evening, the topic of which escapes me at the moment. Scottie left her with a firm "maybe," and we went to dinner. I teasingly asked him if I should be jealous, because clearly she was inviting him, and not me.

Over our meal, we talked about how our days had been. He'd had a particularly stressful day at work. I gushed about meeting Eric and the ParisDailyPhoto site. Apparently, I was a bit over enthusiastic, because he asked me "Well, why aren't you with him tonight, then?"

A bit taken aback, I replied "Because I'm with you. Of course, I could call him after you pay for my dinner..." It was a little uncomfortable for a minute, but I was (secretly) pleased that he may have felt a little pang of jealousy.

I asked him, not to belabour the point, but because I was so obviously unaware of the signals I was putting out when we met, if it was my giving him my phone number that made him think that I'd had an ulterior motive?

"No. I'd thought that before. I thought you giving me your phone number was just you committing to it."

I was floored. Really? Who knew? I think that if I had consciously been putting out a "pick-up" vibe, I probably wouldn't have mentioned being a single parent. Or being unemployed. Or I would've lied about my age. Something. So, I'm not exactly sure what he found attractive, but, okay.

I was also a bit confused about our having dinner together that night, since I thought the point of a one night stand was not ever seeing the other person again. He told me to think of it more as a "holiday romance."

After dinner, we were going to go somewhere else, but instead he said let's just go back to his place. On the way he said he realised he may have been being presumptuous, but should we stop for condoms? I stopped in my tracks. Laughing. "Well..."
He said he realized there was probably no good way to ask or answer that question.
I told him that while I didn't know what the "right" answer was, the fact of the matter, was that stopping anywhere was unnecessary, since I'd already stopped at Monoprix.

So we went back to his place, and watched some weird short film and went to bed. I told him I'd have to leave before the Métro stopped running because I had to get up early to get to the train station. He wanted me to stay and get up when his alarm went off in the morning, when the Métro would be running again. I told him it would be too hard. He said it would be okay, and I could just take a taxi to the hotel in the morning if I was worried about being late.

Of course, that's not what I meant about it being "too hard" to leave if I stayed with him. But, of course, I did. And we slept. Actually fell asleep. Which was nice.

Hey Buzzgirl! Funny to read the encounter "from the other side". Well it's pretty acurate from what I can remember - except maybe this beep beep thing on my arrival at the opera!

Big kiss.

just so you know....*hanging on the edge of my seat*...I want to read this book, and let me tell you girl, when I read such an interesting boook, I don't stop till its finished, so this business about one small chapter a day...IS KILLLLLLLING ME....*just so you know:o)*

Glad you had a great time, and don't stop writing, i'll be back:) yeah like every 5 minutes...saying..did she post, did she post, huh huh??

:o)
you can email me too and give me more of a scoop:)
its kimdylanchase at that hot male place, oops, I mean mail:)
kim

This is developing into a romance story...I am litterally on the corner of my chair waiting for the end. Or, maybe the story is still in the making?!? Oh, I hope so. He sounds very sweet and charming so far.

:)

Hi Buzzgirl,

I'm not sure if your blog is taking comments, as my previous ones haven't shown up, but I'm really loving your stories. You must have had a great time here and you're so adventurous. You'd fit in great in Paris!

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