My gemela was here this weekend– Clare, my best friend from high school. She’s studying in London for the semester and came to visit. This is what happened to me on Saturday while trying to show her around: I got felt up on the stairs up to Sacré Coeur, asked out in the Louvre, and stopped in front of the Musée d’Orsay to help an Anglophone tourist.
Sacré Coeur: Incidentally, my brother was mugged on the same stairs... my family really ought to stay away from that place. Maybe the guy was just looking for my wallet... I turned around and nearly kicked him in the crotch– it would have been easy, since he was two steps below me, but then I realized that he was standing there with three [large] friends who were not French and probably not legal, and I was with just my gemela, and nothing good could come of me knocking him temporarily senseless, even though it was the middle of the day. So I did what I always thought was the sleaziest response to something like that– I whirled around before I realized what had happened, emitting death rays like Mr. Freeze from my eyes, and then just kept walking because I was too freaked to do anything else, and was mad about it all day long.
Musée d’Orsay: A woman was trying to ask the ticket-takers if "that painting of the man and the woman holding the pitchfork" is at the museum. I handed the woman my ticket and interrupted in English, "American Gothic? No, it’s in Chicago," which I happened to know only because I saw it there a year or so ago. The lady thanked me and turned back to the guard (who spoke no English) and said, "And what about Starry Night?" This one I knew only because I have been to the Orsay a million times and have never seen it. But I asked the guard in French for the lady, "La Nuit Etoilée, est-ce qu’il est la?" The guard said to me, in French, "No, it’s not. Is that all she wants? I can’t understand anything she says!"
Louvre: Now this is a great story. After showing my gemela into the Mona Lisa room, I went to find a security guard to ask where the nearest bathrooms were. I found two guards standing together, and asked in French. One of them was about 25, heard my accent, and said, in an exaggerated mocking way, "Ahh, oui, ouiiiii," which is what Americans in France always feel is a funny thing to say when asking about the bathroom. For the record, it is not. So I ignored him and turned to the older man (50ish) standing with him, who gave me directions. Clare and I
walked down the hall like he told me to (if you’ve been to the Louvre, it’s a LONG hall), and we had made it a hundred yards or so when someone grabbed my shoulder– given what had
happened that morning at the Sacré Coeur, I was unnecessarily jumpy, so I whirled around, prepared to kick some French butt, only to see the security guard, who told me, in French, that we had passed the bathrooms, like 75 yards ago. I don’t know if it is standard procedure for security guards to leave their posts to go chase wayward femmes down the main gallery of the
Louvre to give directions to the nearest bathroom, but apparently for this guy, it was... So I say thank you and turn to walk back in the direction we had come from. Clare was a step ahead of me now, and then the guy says, as I am turning around, "Mademoiselle, I just wanted to let you know, I’m going to such-and-such club tonight, would you like to come along?" All of this was conducted in French, but he was so polite about it I didn’t feel like I could just say, "Actually, no," which is how I usually handle things like this (in Paris it is not uncommon... guys randomly ask out girls all the time– it’s happened to me in cabs, on the Metro, at restaurants, and in line at a crepe stand, and it’s not because I’m just so wonderful... it’s, like, the French way– we have THE AMERICAN DREAM, they have THE FRENCH PICKUP), but this guy was so nice about it (and gutsy– my best friend was standing right there!) That I didn’t want to be rude to him, so I politely said I couldn’t but thank you anyway.
I related this story to a European friend later that night, who was shocked I said no, given that all I ever do is whine about wanting French friends who speak no English so I can practice conversing.
But rest assured, I remain, faithfully yours singly,
B