I was walking in the neighborhood around the Louvre when a man muttered something to me in French about the weather. Delighted that I could actually understand what he was saying, I made the mistake of answering him. Yes, it is very warm out. The next five minutes passed like a bad dental visit. After about five minutes of my yanking his arms off me, he finally received the impression I didn t want to have anything to do with him, and very abruptly, disappeared.
Parisian men don t hang around for the aftermath of rejection.
After that particular encounter, I was furious, not just at the man, but at myself for putting up with even five seconds of his behavior. I ll also admit that a little part of my irritation was based in vanity. The man had been about my height, and I m not particularly tall. He was probably about a badly maintained 20 years my senior. He did have a bright smile, but that was just the gold tooth.