Paris Mon Amour

I don’t know what it is with me and Paris. Paris is like that girl in high school that doesn’t want to have anything to do with you. And you don’t really know why. And you want her to love you. But no amount of effort will do. And the nicer you are with her the more she moves away from you, leaving you feeling powerless and left out.

That’s the story of Paris and me.

Gosh, I really try. A ray of sun and I bless the gods of the weather. A look at the Eiffel Tower and I pinch myself in awe. A buttery croissant and you can hear me holler “That’s it! The Real Parisian Croissant!”. I try. I wear the right clothes, go to the right places and I even remind myself not to smile, in a desperate attempt get the best service possible.

But Paris can see right through me.

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That’s why I hardly ever go to Paris just for fun. But sometimes I have to go to Paris for a meeting. This is exactly what happened last week, and my mind was set on making this a non-event. I was going to submarine Paris. Lay low an…