So I sent this to a friend of mine once. An invitation of sorts, you might say.  Since he was in London and I was in Berlin, I thought it might be nice to meet somewhere in the middle.

 

Dear John,

Meet me in Paris.

Make it an Indian Summer,

The smell of red wine on your breath

Just like it was yesterday.

Hold you tight to me,

Me holding you,

It will never rain again.

- L

It sounds silly now, I guess. It's just I'd always wanted to meet someone in Paris, for a romantic rendezvous, something like that.  The first time I went, it was 1999, and I was stuck riding the trains and seeing tourist attractions with a frat boy named Cliff and my Goth roommate Sabrina; we were all students that summer studying at the University of Wuerzburg.

We'd decided to escape the cold of Germany for the warmth of France that weekend in May, though I remember it being cold there, too.   Sabrina and Cliff fought the entire way there and back about the energy level of a red dragon in their continuing game of dungeons and dragons.  I'd been allowed to play with them once, but my character died.  His name was Fang, and he was a dwarf with two battle axes.  Apparently I didn't take these things seriously enough to continue.

The one night we spent in a hotel, not riding trains, remains a blur of getting cheap Merlot and McDonalds McBeers.    At some point, though, when the sun was setting, I do remember doing a striptease for an old French man peering with his telescope; he sat across from us on another balcony peeping from across the street. Sabrina noticed him first, when she was taking a shower.   At some point, we figured if he really wanted to look, than why not give him something to watch.   We were on the eighteenth floor, so I doubt anyone else saw me kick off my underwear. I didn't mean for them to fall, but then I kicked a little too hard that night, and they were gone. I wasn't very happy about loosing them.   Really, the entire thing was done on a dare.  At least I won the twenty francs that night, and bought miniature Eiffel Towers the next day before returning to home. 

So I thought this next time, perhaps, Paris might be different.