Your Friday night French Ro-Com Part 5: "Mr. Low-key"

What could be more romantic than sitting on the steps of the Palais Garnier alongside teenagers, tourists, and pigeons (the latter trawling for snacks), on a beautiful sunday afternoon engaged in blatant PDA ? It's an experience - uniquely french - that everyone should have at least once a lifetime. I was vaguely aware of a middle aged couple from America smiling at us, he raising his camera to capture the quintessential parisian moment, and we gave him the money shot! Smiling into each others eyes, Low pulled me into a warm embrace, and I nestled into his shoulder. A toddler chased a trio of pigeons away from a half eaten cookie, and he knelt down and sampled it for himself before his mother (who was horrified) could head him off at the pass. We laughed as he cried during the vigorous decontamination of his tongue....life was good. "Are you hungry?" inquired my date. "I'm famished!" I exclaimed, "I think I ran out of gas about a half hour ago". "What do you feel like having for dinner?" Low asked, "Since you live here, I'll let you choose. Do you have a favorite restaurant?" (a whopping 10 bonus points!) "Oooh, I know just the place, Chéz Janou!" I suggested, "it's a bit of a zoo, in the sense that it is always very busy, but that's because the food is so good. But it's very unpretentious, and the wait staff is friendly. The moules gratinée is to die!" "Fabulous" said Low, "Where is it? Should we get a cab?" "We can take the metro right here, line 8 will take us to Bastille, et voila!" I offered. I am so accustomed to using public transportation, it's so easy (and above all cheap), I don't even give it a second thought. "No, I don't feel like taking the metro, we'll catch a taxi" he insisted. I didn't argue, and we walked hand in hand toward the nearest taxi stand to queue up and hope a few extra drivers were on duty - Sunday being one of those days it is next to impossible to find a cab. But when you have a hot date like Low, it's a pleasure to wait! Chéz Janou was crowded as usual when we arrived. (Note to self: enter their phone number into cell for reservations on the fly.) We had only 10 minutes to wait, and Low snagged the one remaining barstool and offered it up (5 points). Chéz Janou has inarguabley the best olives in the universe, and we munched contentedly on this perfect appetizer before being shown to our table. We shared the moules, a delicious spinach salad with goat cheese and grapefruit, (salade epinard avec pamplemousse et chévre), and for dessert a generous serving of their famous house mousse au chocolat. OMG! The waiter brings a giant bowl of chocolate heaven - big enough to swim in - offers you a sizeable platter and a huge spoon with which to take as much as you desire.....stick a fork in me - I'm done! Joking, I asked the waiter to just leave the bowl, and he did! Low laughed as the waiter walked away, playing along with my farce. "Are you going to eat all of that?" he grinned. "No, you're going to help" I said, and with a straight face, dished him up a teeny tiny portion. "Thanks, it's so good of you to share!" He took the plate I offered, and with his pinky scooped the mousse off the plate and into his mouth. "Hmmmm, delicious! Waiter, check please!" We laughed and I dove into the bowl, serving a generous portion for us to share as we chatted and took in the chaos that is Chéz Janou. It had been a great day, and I was looking forward to going to the theatre with him the next weekend. But the way he was looking into my eyes, I knew there was a decision looming before us - and it was all mine. Low was staying in a hotel at Place du Vosges, just two blocks away. I was either going to get on the metro after dinner, or not. Did I want to stay? Oh yes! I felt comfortable with Low, he was easy to talk to and funny - and adorable. But most of all, a gentleman. I faced the cunundrum every woman has; to play by the "rules" and wait (for date number six? marraige? a ring on it?) or succumb to the pleasures of the flesh and "cowgirl up"! Not helping matters was the mélange of boyish charm, Bordeaux, and a huge bowl of chocolate mousse. Add the fact that I am not looking for a husband, and you have devils brew! Oh la la. I knew deep down Low would have more respect for me if we waited, plus a little anticipation goes a long way......on the other hand I didn't want to leave him, I wanted to lie in his arms all night. We strolled slowly toward our final destination, not wanting the night to end. As we neared the moment when we must decide whether to zig toward Place du Vosges or zag toward the metro, my heart was pounding furiously. Did I a.) demurely kiss Low goodnight and get on the metro, b.) go with him to his hotel and ride him like the wild stallion he is, OR c.) this is way TMI - Too Much Information Find out next week on your Friday night French Ro-Com, right here at Bonbon de Paris!