Dating in France, an introduction.
But first, some amusing interludes about airplanes.
Air Berlin. They serve butter pretzels! And I mean, really, there are schlobbs of butter INSIDE the pretzel, like a stuffed-crust pizza but with butter instead of cheese. Now that is something else. Thanks again, Germany, for being so inventive and awesome!
THIS KID IN FRONT OF ME PEED HIS PANTS DURING LANDING! Hahaha! I can picture his wedding now: "And little KLODHANS here, when we landed in CPH, was so excited he peed all over himself and the person next to him! Oh boy! His dad heroically unseated himself during the descent to get paper towels, eliciting screeches and hisses from the stewardesses. Air Safety what?! It was really stressful at the time, we all took a stress leave from work for the next 6 months, but we see the humor now... So, bride-to-be, don't get this little man too excited, hahaha!"
And finally a note in airplane etiquette, directed towards those disembarking in CPH *coughDanes*
Typically it is considered polite to allow the people in the rows in front of you to get their bags from the overhead compartment and leave the plane before you belt past them with your overweight cabin baggage. Really, it's just common courtesy. Take it in hand.
Something else I was thinking while I'm at it. You don't have a word in Danish for 'please', and I think this is something we could all benefit from. You've borrowed English words for mobile telephone and computer and suchlike things. WHY NOT CONSIDER, and I mean, just consider it... adopting a suitable word for 'please'? Take it from German, take it from English, I don't care. But really it's high time you joined the rest of the civilized world and introduced some polite language into your vocabulary.
And get some smaller baby carriages.
On to the real subject of this post: Finding a Lifelong Partner on the Streets of France.
Not as difficult as you might think.
It could be because I was staying in Montmartre and had to walk from the dungy sex-shop street to my hostel (which was quite respectable, in case you wondered). But I received many, many offers, some of them quite lucrative, of both dating, *ahem*ing, and marriage. And when I say lucrative, I mean disgusting.
This one time. I was walking home and given it was kind of late, probably around 12:30 or 1am. I turn the corner to the street of my hostel and am stopped (as in, arm reaches out to stop me) by a restauranteer (presumably).
The conversation goes like... Restauranteer introduces himself (name unpronounceable), asks if I speak French, I say no and consider that the end of the conversation. But no. Through much gesturing towards his nearly empty restaurant, I say 'maybe some other time', thinking he is trying to lure me in for a late night meal (?). His eyes glow and he points to the hostel up the street. I nod vaguely. Through more gestures, he dials a phone, and does a little charade:
*picks up phone*, Recepcion, Oui?
Bonjour, lovely girl to eat? Oui?
'Yes, a moment'
*makes walking gesture with hands*
*points to me*
*points at restaurant*
Hm. Errrrmm... No.
I decided that was the time to ignore his further pleas and circle around the hostel and lock the door and cower.
Because when you are 40+, and you work at a restaurant, and you gently accost young girls at night for a date.... as romantic as that might seem, it's not. Does that even work? With anyone? You'd think it must, for them to keep doing it. What kind of girl is out there, giving these men hope?? WHO?? STOP IT!
Let's finish it all off with a review of the precious suitcase real estate I filled up with necessities of life that are too expensive or otherwise un-purchasable in Denmark.