The Englishman and The Parisienne – A Tragedy in three parts.
“La composition d’une tragédie nécessite testicules.”
Part 1 The Encounter.
He wandered around Paris, his crumpled white suit, his faded fedora, The Englishman. A little scared of taxis he took the metro, not too different from the underground and as cheap. But mostly he walked. The spring air put a spring in his step. Paris in the spring, few tourists (not like summer oh my god) mostly natives. He wanted to find the café that Camus, Jean Paul and Simone hung out in. [ Les Deux Magots is a famous café in the Saint-Germain-des-Prés area of Paris], Not Les Flores which was a tourist trap anyway. He took out his very creased well worn map of Paris, Took the metro from Le Gare Do Nord (his base) . Hmm the station was there St Germain hhmmm he would have to walk some. On the train he gazed at the beautiful people chattering away So different from the Underground where silence ruled. Found his stop and disembarked. A bright day! Warm too. Head bowed over his map he sauntered along when BUMP! He collided with another person scattering her books onto the pavement.
“ Merde! Vous homme stupide! Pourquoi ne pas regarder où vous allez! “
“ Je m’excuse Madame pardonnez moi. I am English and I am lost.
He bent to help her and their heads bumped. Her perfume encompassed him. She was wearing a little black dress with a slit up one side. He caught a flash of thigh above her stocking tops.
“Fool d’une personne! Anglais Vous êtes si maladroit donc laissé Je déteste les touristes dans ma
ville, ébahis et parlant une langue étrangère. Avoir disparu avant que j’appelle la police.”
She hurried off . He looked down and there was a book left lying on the ground. He picked it up waving it calling “Madam, madame Votre Livre!” He decided to follow her. To return her book. Well he glanced at the title : “Les principes fondamentaux reconnus par les lois de la République.” Wtf was that he asked himself. Principle fundamental of the republic. A law book? He saw the top of her head, her glasses perched. She was entering a large building. It was some kind of school, perhaps she was a student, a little old perhaps 25? 26? . He followed her to a lecture room and sat at the back he should be able to spot her, though the room was filling up fast.
“Mesdames et Monsieurs! Attendez!!!”
It was her! OMG she was a lecturer ! He sat spellbound watching her walk up and down, so confident so self assured! She was magnifique! He understood nothing but she was playing the crowd too. They sat absorbed, from time to time they would laugh out loud at something she said. She however remained somewhat stern. One student put up his hand and she smiled. It was like the sun coming out. He was enraptured. Was there such a word?
He waited until the lecture was over. She was surrounded by students. He stood at the back. One student gave her an apple. She took a bite with her small even very white teeth. One bite and she tossed it expertly in the bin. She put both hands in the air and motioned (as only the French can)
“Allez ! Allez!
He approached her.
“ Madame votre….”
he got no further!
“You! Englishman, you ave followed me? You stalker!!! Sécurité! Viens ici s’il vous plaît. Cet
homme est un imposteur. Montrez-lui la sortie s’il vous plaît. Il est étrange! ”
A burly security guard grabbed his arm, nearly lifting him of his feet. He turned waving the book
“Madame…” Too late she had vanished. He was nearly thrown out of the school. Losing his fedora.
People glanced at him suspiciously. He picked it up dusted it needlessly and replaced it on his head. He saunterd down the rue lost in thoughtm clutching her book.
………………………………….to be continued