Take me out

Things are not as bad as they seem

To re-read entries like the one below, one would be led to believe that i only ever meet distressed people.

It's not at all like that day in, day out.

My clients are not all anally-retentive .... thank heavens.

The grand majority are normal :)

I do though, meet some some young women who are absolute stunners (or stunnahs, if you read The Sun).

This is Paris, after all.

Some french women are increadibly direct : more than once i've been asked "do you have a woman ?" (as opposed to "êtes-vous marié ?"), "what are you doing for lunch ?" ("Où est-ce que vous-allez manger à midi ?" ), "do you want to go for a coffee ?" (".. et si on allait boire un café ensemble ?" ) ... all very nice and truly flattering.

I'm not going to mention the e-mail adresses that are left scribbled on a piece of paper, hidden under my files to be found later .... un truc d'ouf, je me dis quand on voit la tête de la nana ... sometimes, it really is quite brutal; it just comes out *just like that*.

I should be mega chuffed - goodlooking, young(ish) women, well put together and all the rest of it, propositioning me (i must be stark raving bonkers to say no) ... the thing is, i have an aversion to mixing work with ... euhhm ... pleasure: it just doesn't work for me.

Also, it's just the nature of my job that creates a false sense of closeness and openess - you need to create a persona that is true to life but not exactly the 'real me' - some people understand that, others don't (trainers included).

There's also the awareness from my part that it's not about 'me' (the real one, this time), but the image of this kind of strange beast that speaks the lingo quite well, is very well integrated and everything else that that entails ... shuis pas dupe, toute de même ...

However, it is difficult to resist sometimes: top models from Elite who would like to be shown around paris (but they're only eighteen, d'oh!! ), the young woman who's just been relocated at the behest of her company and has never set foot outside of Minnesota, the divorcee from Italy who's trying to restart her life in Paris ... etc

I'm not one to blow my own whistle as we say, but on monday, someone asked me if i'd ever been to Malta:

"No, i've never been there"

"If i invited you, would come for a weekend ?"

I'd only met her for an hour before :^*