I went to Paris, Sexy Dance Battle Trois (this is the French title of the movie 'Step Up 3-D' which was playing in theaters in Paris)

He did, we drank fast, caught a taxi and headed toward the Eiffel Tower. My man speaks wonderful French so he does all the talking. I smile and stare out the window, trying to catch details of every light and building and bit of wonder that we zip past. The night is warm and breezy and we are going, going forward and it feels good. We get to the base of the tower and it is so full of tourists. My man calls O who speaks to the taxi driver via cell phone and he drives us back across to the right bank, even though that is where we originated. That driver was difficult and was doing just what he wanted. Along the Seine, there are ramps, real roads that go down to the riverbank. We were to be dropped off down near the boat. This is not the way it worked out. The driver just pulled over on the main road and told us to get out. He had driven us around enough for one night. Ok, he was rude about it and he was not helpful. We got out and crossed the dark street and walked about 20 yards down to the slope that led to the docked boats. We walked down in the dark to a boat that was loud and bright. The party. We went on and found O on the top deck in the night with about 30 other partiers. He offered to get us a drink, champagne for everyone. The bar was open and the champagne tasted like only champagne can, the crisp round sting of the fizz on your tongue, everything. We were having the party and the party had us. Meeting, talking, being sweetly charmed by O and his hospitality and politeness mixed with his shirt open down to his waist and his hairy chest. O offered us every part of a good time and we were in full swing when the Eiffel Tower began to glitter in the night. I have seen this spectacle on film before but never here, under it, sipping champagne, laughing, in love. The breath was gone from me and I had nothing to say. This is a special occasion as I am frequently known for my talking and some of you wish I would close my mouth. Well, now you know how to get the job done. Amaze me.

I went to Paris, Part Deux

The Seine from my bicycle.

My cup runneth over with Parisien rainwater, also known as Champagne.

I stepped out of the shower and heard the news. ‘O is going to some wrap party for a movie, on a boat, on the Seine, under the Eiffel Tower.’ I just go silent. My brain starts to jump around.

It is very exciting inside my mind and I say: ‘Oh, that sounds good…’

My life’s love replies ‘I guess so, but I can’t be arsed.’ 

‘When does it start?’ I say.

‘The boat leaves right now, I don’t think we will make it.’ He informs.

Now, he is right, I am naked out of the shower and although it sometimes takes me less time to get ready then it does him, there is no way to avoid disappointment in this case.

‘He said to call at eleven, when the boat docks at the Eiffel Tower.’

I smiled broadly and we got dressed for dinner.  We had been going out to some of the most wonderful meals and that evening we headed to a place we had been eyeing and he most desperately wanted to eat. It was the cheapest meal I think we had on the trip. I am not sure if this place has a name. It is on a quiet corner in an Asian restaurant area. It is the most basic of noodle shops. The main attraction is an enormous pot in the front window. It is loaded to the top with all sorts of strange, murky veg and it’s broth is the basis of some great ramen. The salty richness smacks on your lips and tongue and makes those noodles that are done and firm more of a pleasure to chew. The sliced pork, bamboo, scallion and other toppings were just that, a nice addition but nothing without the base. We were all smiles, sake and Tsing Tao during that meal.

We slid off of our bar stools and onto the Paris streets. A taxi ride to the Marais and to a little bar my man claims as his favorite place for a drink since he was a student there in Paris. We were drinking our chilled red wine and the street was busy and gay, really, this is how the perfect Parisien evening makes you feel. I looked up at the clock and pointed out the time, about 11:05. ‘You should call O.’

3.