Last week I had to go to Paris for a few job meetings. Work has been pretty slow, lately, and I’m not complaining about it: although it’s boring not to have something to really focus on, it doesn’t hurt to have a little time for myself, not to mention that I’m able to stay a bit more than usual at home with Killer Smile.
Did I already mention how much I dislike going to Paris?
I know, you all think I’m crazy. The thing is, I don’t go there on vacation. I have to confront myself with the damned underground at 8AM in the morning, knowing there is some 80% of chances that my stockings will break (I always keep a spare pair in my notebook case), that I’ll probably be late, that by the time I reach our offices in the western outskirts, I’ll surely be sweaty and my clothes will be crumbled (if not stained).
Furthermore, people in Paris are not friendly. I mean, most of the times, when you go there for a meeting, at noon everyone will leave and I end up walking miles alone, not knowing what to do of my break (since the office is in the outskirts, I can’t even go shopping ).
As expected, all this happened last week (add I had to wake up at 5AM to catch the train to be at the meeting on time).
So that’s why, around 1PM I was walking around, texting Maria now and then to exchange some gossip. Earlier in the week, I had bought a new brown suede skirt (a bit short, but gorgeous!) and I was wearing in with my suede beige boots (4 inch heels, obviously) and a cute beige cashmere coat with its cute wool hat.
And then, I bumped into The Little Prince.
Who was like, the last person I was hoping to meet on Earth.
I was so surprised that, when he asked if I was in a hurry, I said no. Mistake number one: he immediately offered to take me to lunch.
I wasn’t hungry, and I hate eating with The Little Prince, because he always criticizes my veggie diet, my manners, everything. So I did Mistake number two: I proposed a coffee instead.
He agreed, but soon enough he was already reproaching my bad eating habits (meaning I don’t eat enough, according to him).
In order to avoid writing a whole book instead of a post, I’ll summarize all what he told me:
- I wasn’t dressed in an appropriate way for work (I wasn’t wearing a tailleur, and the skirt was too sexy, according to him)
- My accent, when I speak French, is too pronounced, and I should do something about it
- When asked, I couldn’t say what the plans for the rest of my life were, so according to him, at 25, I should have a plan, my ideas should be more defined
- When he spotted my cell phone (wrapped in a cute Hello Kitty cover), he said I totally need to grow up.
Of course, this is just a summary. In the end, I headed back to the office depressed. I mean, I already feel so and so about Paris, but the Little Prince has this ability to make me feel totally inadequate, lonely and lost.
Luckily for me, while I was walking back to the office, Kevin texted me
Kevin: “Hey Stranger, what’s up? Dinner tonight?” (He recently started calling me Stranger)
DDgirl “Dunno… I’m a bit in a blue mood”
Kevin: “That’s exactly why you need a hottie like me to take you to dinner”
He had a point. Late in the afternoon we made arrangements, he picked me up at my hotel at 8PM, and we spent a nice evening eating gnocchi, talking about how we both ended up doing this job, about Paris, about exes, and so on.
On Friday, we met for lunch, and at 6PM he took the underground with me to the train station, hugging me goodbye before I stepped onto the train, without forgetting to compliment my skirt and my boots.
It’s cool to have once again a friend in Paris!
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