I was floating on Cloud 9 all the way home on the train. It felt good to be with "Low". He was smart, inquisitive, funny, and adorable! It had been difficult to leave him to sleep alone, but anticipation being the ultimate aphrodisiac I reluctantly tore myself out of his arms, gave him one final kiss and disappeared into the metro. I must have had a glow, or maybe it was the smile on my face that had every man on the train looking at me. If you go around smiling parisians assume you are completely crazy so perhaps it was the latter, but I didn't care. I was happy as a lark! Suddenly, my cellphone chirped - I had a text. "Thnx 4 2day" it read, "had a grt time! xoxo" "I had a gurt time 2" I replied, "sleep tight!" He said goodnight and as I put my phone in my purse I noticed a man sitting two rows away grinning at me. He winked as our eyes met, and I looked out the window nonchalantly. (The other thing french men assume is that if you smile at them in the train it means "Please follow me when I get off at my stop and let's go make love!" So I have learned to suppress my California attitude, and like any self respecting parisienne, snub them as if they are invisible.) I could see the Tour d'Eiffel twinkling in the distance, as it does every hour on the hour all night long. It's moments like these that remind me why I moved here in the first place, trading a life of security and comfort for the unknown. The next stop was mine, and as the train pulled into the station I made my way to the door. To my chagrin, Blinky did too. He hadn't stopped staring after my obvious F.U. and I made every effort not to make eye contact a second time. I hoped was getting off the train because he lived in my town, and in the opposite direction! I live near the gare, and I didn't want him to know where. I reached for my phone, and pretending to have a conversation with someone I mounted the stairs toward the exit. Blinky wasn't far behind, and I could feel his eyes burning a hole somewhere near my ass all the way up. Just then a young guy moved quickly between us to the top of the stairs, and as I pushed through the turnstile he created a welcome buffer. I wasn't obliged to hold the door for Blinky, and I breathed a little sigh of relief as he exited the door opposite from me and went on his way. Once inside the gate my thoughts returned to Low. As I climbed the stairs to my flat I wondered if he had already gone to bed. I imagined him there all naked and cosy, and me next to him! My mind running freely, I asked my self if he wore underwear to bed. Which led me to ponder if he was a boxer man or a tighty-whitey. Maybe he wore the kind that are like tight shorts - in red! I finally settled on banana hammock, also in fire engine red, who can argue with that? I switched on the television and found an opera on Arte, France's version of PBS. It was one of my favorites, "La Traviata", and the beautiful arias were the icing on the delicious cake that was the day. I showered off the dust of the city and settled into bed. The sheets felt cool and welcoming, and I sighed with contentment as I spooned up to my extra pillow to enjoy the finalé of a top notch production and reflect on the afternoon. I hoped Low was sincere about his theatre invitation and would really return the next weekend. My instincts told me he would, but in the dating game anything could happen! Join me next week and find out if a) Low returns to Paris just to see me, OR b) he totally stands me up!
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