Wednesday, October 3, 2007

can't get no...

So, I met this guy around the block at a kind of punk/metal/goth bar called Katabar. He wrote in my Moleskine and finally I had bad words in French. We stayed out until 3am and I drank weird anise drinks that were not absinthe. He walked me home.

We met again at the bar and he was sitting with a friend - they both met as regulars at the bar. We all laughed and when the friend left, Julien and I made out. His touches felt electric and I fell bashful. Kissing and thigh rubs.

"What do you want to do now?" he asked.
"Well, we could have another drink here or somewhere else or you could come up to my apartment or we could do something else." I said.
"I want to get to know you better," he said.

Ok. I have nowhere to go on this one so I'll play with him while I keep my eyes open. It's not as easy as being home where I can walk into a bar, know the language, look the look, hit the pinball, and know who won't mass-murder me if I bring them up -- let alone who will want to climb 6 floors to hang with me.

We go out again to a fucking awesome bar/restaurant The Black Dog, run by an Argentine punker. We eat with Julien's friend. I laugh, we have fun. Julien goes to a metal/electronic show at a club. I go home because I have to be on a bus for the weekend retreat at 9:30am.

I've told him I'm not patient. I've told him I'm not a good girl - as in, I'm not very good at being a girl.

We go for dinner last night around the way and celebrate him signing the papers to own a studio/shop to convert to an apartment.

I guessed right. (Maybe you did too?) He just came out of a 5-year relationship and is still sharing a living space with his ex. ... So that's the reason, but what reason is that shit? Why not take me at my offer. Which is loud and clear. And stop text msging me "I want your skin close to me Lola" This is playing hard to get, I tell him. This is teasing.

In the meantime I keep my eyes open while I let my lips wander a bit on his, coldly retreating my hands from his reach across the table - I am not here for romance and Paris love, I am not here to hold hands and have him loop his arm through mine down the street. I'm not a cold fish, we know this. But I am determined in what I want.

Three-quarters of the students in my program are in serious relationships and like they say don't shit where you sleep. Or is it,don't shit where you eat? Anyway... I'm still wandering out by myself to see the world out there and put myself out there. A neighbor across the way is Scottish and has invited me for wine at his place. I'm hopeful but totally low-key - if it turns out his girlfriend also invites me for the wine, well so be it.

Yes, yes, I'm on the red-light strip but it's a very strange red-light. It's 3 blocks of dirty and touristy. I wouldn't fuck anyone off this street. I've got a bit of class. .. Now, would I work in it? Dance? Not sure yet. I need to figure out my class schedule first.

Oh, yeah, and that idea to be a mistress? Ha. I'm not classy *enough*. The women in Paris are amazingly stunningly sexy. A man with taste could easily find a mistress. Sigh. It's not even been a month. Give it time, Lola darling. Yes, yes.

1 comment:

Rune said...


the version i've heard is, "don't shit where you eat, don't fuck where you work."