Saturday, January 14, 2012

Date 26

Frenchman and I had a rather lengthy back-and-forth about where to meet, when to meet, should we meet, blah, blah, blah...  To be difficult, I decided to do a show on Thursday but was hoping he and I could meet beforehand.  That way it's an in-and-out and I can go about by business.  If he's fabulous, great.  There will be a second date.  If not, great.  I have a show to do and he provided material.

We met near my house at a restaurant where I meet many of these men.  The bartender knows me, but I've never told him why I'm always with a different man.  I bet he's really confused as to what my "type" is.

Frenchman was a wee late due to traffic.  He thought since he rode a motorcycle it would take him less time.  When I say that Frenchman rides a motorcycle I mean it is his only form of transportation.  He walked in looking like he had an exoskeleton.  I realize that motorcycle wear is for safety, but it looks like an extra's costume from Alien.

Frenchman was handsome.  Loads of curly salt and pepper hair, facial hair, Mediterranean looking, really.  I like that.  He is ridiculously polite and knows a bunch of stuff I don't know.  This is why I like foreign men.  You can always learn something from them.  That is, if you can understand them.

Frenchman's English sounds like French.  There were times I just nodded and said "right" because we needed to move on.  I would also like to tell you that Frenchman runs 10 miles a day.  Yup.  Barefoot.  Oh yes.  I voiced my concern for such a thing in which he replied, "But we are made to run barefoot.  We were also made to run naked."  (Man.  The French, right?)  I told him that his logic was just, but since I can't do one jumping jack with my American Apparel bra on, the thought of running with nothing was troublesome.

He said that Americans were interesting, and he has a hard time assimilating.  He said that Europeans don't date.  The concept of dating is an American thing.  I asked what they did then.  He said, "Meet for coffee, grab a drink, stay home and watch a movie..."  I replied, "Yeah.  That's what we call dating."

Frenchman paid for my 2 Proseccos.  As a matter of fact, when I grabbed my wallet, he said, "Won't you be my guest?"  Do you see why foreign men are so grand?  American men don't say things like that.  It's not their fault.  Just a different upbringing, but UGH, it's a blast to hang with for a bit.  Ladies and gays, PLEASE date a non-American at least once.  It's fun.

We parted ways because I needed to get to my show.  He has since texted me and asked if I would like to go running barefoot on the beach.  I declined.

No comments:

Post a Comment