Alright, I don't really remember how everything happened (because Europe happened in just three weeks, three years ago, and mom and I just spent under 48 hours in France), but let's say, it was right after we visited the Notre Dame cathedral. Mom and I had nowhere else to go after going to the base of the overcrowded overrated Eiffel, and the Champs Elysees. So we went this little English rose garden somewhere in the area, and I saw this handsome male specimen reading (such a turn on - he reads!) an art history book (okay I made it up). I wasn't my brave self that day, so I just pretended to be checking my camera and clicked a shot in his direction. But I could have said, "Monsieur, volez vouz (... ay, pwde English na lang?) Bonjour. Do you come here often?"
Duh.
But then he could have answered, "Oh, of course, Mademoisselle. I am a locale... I surmise you are still Mademoiselle with your pretty face and gorgeous body."
"Oui, cest moi une, solo, singulare. Available (wink wink)." The last one said with a French accent.
"Ah, then you are in luck. I am une as well. Maybe we could be au pair?"
Oui! Oui!
Of course, these are just figments of my hyber caffeineted imaginacion. Back to reality.
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