Carmela Reminded Me

Once I was a tourist in France, gazing upon the Ecole Militaire, the Eiffel Tower at my back. I was especially enamored of military schools at the time, and it didn't matter at all whose homeland the cadets were being educated to protect. There was no lofty allegience on my part, only admiration for the unabashed masculinity of the shirts, the shoes, the hair and the ramrod backs of a few good men. I looked at the school, then back at the Eiffel Tower. All along my periphery couples dry-humped in the Parc du Champ de Mars. As I readied my disposable camera and took aim at the Ecole Militaire, I was as sure as I ever was that the real thing could only be preferable to phallic symbology.

Then a Frenchman walked in front of me and asked if he could be in the picture. I know that's what he wanted because, after eight years of instruction in this gentleman's native tongue, I still needed my childhood friend and travel companion to translate for me. Then he asked if I wanted a kiss.

"Bisou, bisou," he shouted with glee, zeroing in on my American lips with a determination I never expected from a man who should've been more culturally predisposed to bending over and taking it than to initiating his own conquests. His face had almost reached mine before I was shocked out of silence. I don't remember what I said, or even if they were real words, but the sounds I made were loud and shrill. Racous mimicry ensued as I bolted away, the Bisou Bastard and his friends slapping each other's asses and chattering in the lackadaisical ecstasy of Parisians in the afternoon.


Anonymous Amy (binkytown) said...

Me too! Me too! Also got kissed by a frenchman in Paris! He was lovely! I think they all think American girls are easy :). I've been thinking of that episode all day daydreaming about how much Id rather be there than here at this moment..

2:54 PM  
Anonymous Motherhood Uncensored said...

I have not been so lucky (?) but I will say you made me miss Paris and traveling.

Off to go clean out the potty.


3:11 PM  
Blogger Jene said...

i haven't been to paris, but i was kissed by a few italian men in rome! :)

4:14 PM  
Anonymous lildb said...

but - did you manage to get the photo?

mmmmm sweaty french stranger lips. delish.

I was offered kisses from strange Brasilian dudes when I was there - and I often received them sans invitation, due to the tradition of the 3x air kiss greeting, practiced in the smaller cities of that country. usually they would feign an honest-seeming attempt to kiss my cheeks, and then - oops! - they'd gotten too close. "My bad," their scoffing eyes would say. I became very embarrassed whenever I was expected to greet strange men of a certain age after I'd figured out the game.

5:37 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Quelle Bastard. (Was that even remotely right?)


6:41 PM  
Blogger wordgirl said...

Uh. Eww! The utter presumption of some men.

9:51 PM  
Blogger Mom101 said...

Oh you just brought back my own "bisou" memory, but it was an elderly gelato salesmen who were posing with for a photo. I was 16. Creeeeeepy.

12:20 AM  
Anonymous Buffy said...

Ohhh I use to have a thing for military schools too.

2:10 PM  
Blogger Andrea said...

I think you were right to run. I don't care if they're French. Unsolicited and unwelcome kisses are scary and rude in any language.

2:10 PM  

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