Tuesday, June 26, 2007

French Fairy Tale Romance

My last night in Paris was literally one of the best nights of my life. Dahlia joined me in my hotel room to provide moral support and to babysit little Edith Piaf (who of course, I brought with me!) We went over wardrobe, jewelery, and hair decisions as if we were two heads of State discussing the important governmental issues. No decision was unintentional or casual from deciding to forgo gloss over the lipstick (too sticky and not conducive to hours of kissing) to making sure that I had a secret stash of Visine in my purse so I could still look bright eyed at 5:00 a.m. should my night go that long. My hair was in a pony tail, so I could do the dramatic loosening up the hair thing later in the evening...and so my blonde locks wouldn't have to be burdened with any hair products to take away from its caress-ability once the time was right. There is nothing less sexy than a guy getting his fingers stuck in your overly-spritzed hair.

On my way out the door, I ran smack into one of France's biggest movie stars who I happen to know from way back when. Was that happening? Where were my eyewitnesses? Ugh... He was visiting his Mother (who lived two doors down from my hotel) on his baby blue Vespa. I forgot how gorgeous he was since he has never appears in any English language films - and fame outside of France, has completely eluded him thus far. He is the classic Latin dream boat....tousled messy hair, five o'clock shadow, expressive eyebrows and oozing sex appeal. Christ - why did I have to run into him on my last night in Paris when I don't have a minute to spare? He offered to take me to dinner (damn!) He also offered to give me a lift to the door step of the luckier man than him - as he put it. It would have been quite cool to have a huge movie star drop me off for my date with Bambi - but in reality, I knew that the chance that Bambi would actually see my drop-off would be slim and the Vespa would surely ruin the perfect ponytail. Besides, I was done playing games. I truly liked Bambi and as tempting as it was, I left as if it was God's way of asking if I was serious about him. So God, did you notice I turned down a ride from a gorgeous movie star to take a smelly cab ride to my date with Bambi? Please say you did - and that I will be rewarded for my efforts!

Bambi had picked a sultry, velvet swathed, restaurant off the Invalides where we had an intimate table by the window. He was quick and decisive with the wine list. He asked me a zillion questions about myself and was incredibly open and frank about his own personal life and deepest feelings on a range of important subjects. In addition, he oddly gave me a brief synopsis of his family's history over the past 500 years which I didn't really care about. Hmmm....what do you say to that? I mean, I am happy to hear about any of his "living relatives" that I might meet, but anyway. I will chalk that part down to "cultural differences."

He did say he was ready to settle down and that he really wanted to start a family. Who talks like this on a first date? But we have known each other for a long time, so maybe it isn't so strange? Bambi is currently finishing up his Masters Degree in Philosophy and wants to spend more time painting in his studio. He also has a book in the works. A perfect Renaissance man. He gently inquired if I would ever consider moving back to France and I exclaimed I absolutely would - in a New York minute, in fact.

After dinner, we walked through the city to the Pont des Arts....a wooden pedestrian bridge linking the Right and Left Banks - and that was where it happened. The kiss, under the stars....right next to the Louvre, Notre Dame, and boats filled with tourists cruising down the Seine. Under the stars, over the water, in between two gorgeous pieces of Parisian land. It was a kiss worth waiting for. He was a guy worth waiting for. I felt as if my heart was full and that happiness was all my body and mind knew at the moment. It was the type of kiss that sets off fireworks inside of yourself...even despite all the champagne!

The kiss broke a dam between us - as one would expect and we probably kissed about 10,000 times on the way back to his apartment and we made out until all wee hours of the night. When the sun came up, he offered for me to sleep in with him, but I declined and went back to my hotel. You can't go too far too soon with the guy you really want. I did want to go further with him and I did want to sleep there, but I resisted the urge. Lose the battle, win the war.

I woke up Dahlia when I got back to the hotel (who has a small Yorkie nestled in her hair on the pillow) and told her that I knew he was the one. She said she knew he was too and then Dahlia, my Yorkie, and I all fell asleep in a yellow hotel room in Paris.

Happy, happier, and happiest all in one bed.

1 comment:

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