Friday, September 28, 2012

Interesting Encounter


The last tales of Paris...for now :)

About 3 weeks ago, I receive a Facebook message from a friend of a friend. I had been recently photographed with her and had apparently caught this young man’s attention. After a quick conference with my gal pal and a looksie at his handsome public profile pics, I clear him for a response. Smoldering blue eye to boot, my other friends give the sign off.  We chat for a few days on and off and he asks me to come visit him for the weekend on the coast of France. Nope. Not that crazy. He suggests a trip to Paris and I give it a night to contemplate whether or not I’m insane enough to accept a blind date from a man who barely speaks my language, who I’ve only exchanged casual chit chat, and who might make it a habit of FB stalking. Turns out I am. What the heck. He was smitten, travelling 3 hours, taking a day off of work and all. Who am I to fight such “blind” courage? 

He arrives just in time for dinner. Nervous as can be, and rightfully so. Me, cool as a cucumber but then again I didn’t have nearly as much invested. He gives me the full court press with a swiftness. How many children do you want? Do you want to get married? When do you want to get married? Where do you want to live? What do you think of my looks? Then asks me after about 2 hours, “So tell me what you think of me? What are your intentions?” I couldn’t have been more turned off. Still trying to be good company, I tell him “I think you’re very nice. I have no intentions because I don’t know you.” When what I really want to say is “I’d like to revoke the application that I unintentionally submitted.”

 I then ask him the same. Something I would never dare under normal circumstances but now it’s for the sake of science and the blog (always thinking of you). He responds with how he finds me very attractive. He thinks I am smart. Likes the way I think and speak. Everything he wants because he's always dreamed “to be with a Latina with good form and not too big” I ask for Translation: Tits and ass but not too tall.  He’s just a little worried that I live in Miami.  I swear, I started looking for the hidden camera. Check please!

The plan was that he would stay at a hotel and that I would show him the sites on the next day. Except that he had apparently not booked a hotel. Could only mean one of two things…1)He’s just that dumb to assume you could wing it for a hotel in Paris at 11pm or 2)He was certain that his sweet talks of baby making, marriage and country living where going to sweep my off my feet and he would be bunking it Casa Maris. No such luck, my dear! 

I then receive a text message the next day around noon that after checking 15 hotels, he spent the night at the train station and  waited for the first train home. Not an ounce of pity crosses my suddenly fridged soul. Karma is a mofo! He continues to write frequently and hopes for my prompt return. My response, nil with a FB delete coup de grace.

Then it occurs to me, he could be a wifey searching, night traveling ninja. He didn't book a room because had he not scored big, he planned to leave. On to the next one. And with such premeditation who could surmise intention? A level of companion searching I plan to never reach. There is a sci-fi movie here somewhere.

Lesson learned: One blind date is too many for me. I thrive on the fire, on the chase, on the magnetism that can not be sniffed out over facebook chat.

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