dimanche 26 avril 2009

The crying game

Thursday, I went out on a date with a nice young American.  

Well I say 'date'.  He's a friend of a friend, in town for a couple of weeks with his job and desperate for some help with the city.  Seems it's the first time he's left the US, first time he's travelled on his own.  First time he's stayed in a hotel on his own.  

I've been stuck, bored and miserable, in enough foreign hotel rooms to know how bad that can be, so I was happy to help out.  The fact that he is cute and gay and funny also helped my decision making process along.

So we went out on Thursday night and it was fun.  It was a lot of fun.  We got dinner, had a couple of drinks and I returned him to his hotel safe and sound.  As I left the hotel Friday morning (come on, what else did you expect?) we agreed that we'd see each other again that evening.

Friday evening started well.  We met at his hotel in the early evening - he hasn't yet gotten brave enough to use the métro alone, so I had to go and collect him.  We left the hotel a while later (uh-huh) and went to meet up with a couple of my friends at the Freedj - my usual bar, the regular hangout.  

Leaving the hotel, I noticed that the American Guy had gone quiet.  I looked at him and he surreptitiously wiped a tear away from his eye.  

"Are you ok?" I said, nervously.

"Sure," he responded.  "I'm just a little homesick".

Swearing that going out on the town was the right thing to do, he dried his eyes, I put my arm around him and we walked to the métro.

At the bar we met the boys and had a great time.  AG really got on well with them and became animated, lively and seemed to be enjoying himself.  

We headed off to get food and then decided we'd go the Depot - the infamous nightclub/sexclub - purely for research purposes, you understand...to show AG the seedier side of the Paris scene. 

As we walked to the Depot, AG started to slow down a little.  He was crying again.  I pulled him in towards me and gave him a good old bearhug.  He sobbed and said 'thankyou' over and over again.  He said that this was the best night, and that he was so happy to be there after how awful he had felt earlier.  Having cried, he seemed to cheer up pretty quickly.  He told me that he definitely wanted to go on to the club and so we carried on our way.

So, we go to the Depot.  We dance, drink, laugh at the awful porn on the TV monitors.  We take a tour of the labyrinthine cruising area and giggle with each other at the guys standing in cubicle doorways, waving their erections at passersby.  

One of my friends loses his cell phone, but we all - his husband included - put this down to the fact that his trousers were, at the time, around his ankles and so he deserved to be robbed.  He he.

Anyway, at 6am, we leave the club and AG says he wants to come back to mine.  Luckily I'd done the housework that afternoon.

I close the shutters and as the city turned light and woke up, my bedroom went dark and we were able to think about sleep.

After a bit of a passionate moment, we were both fit to drop.  I lay next him and started to sleep.  He put his head on my chest and clung on like a limpet.

And that's when it happened again.

He cried.

He sobbed.

I held him tightly and figured it would pass.

I offered soothing words of comfort and told him it would all be alright.

I fell asleep.  So did he.

We slept until the late afternoon and went for dinner together.  We followed it with a walk down the Champs Elysées and a movie.  Not once did we speak about the crying.  

After the movie, I pointed him in the direction of the métro and told him how to get back to his hotel.

"You're not coming with me?" he said.

"Not tonight, no"  I said.  "I need to wake up on my own tomorrow".

"Ok" he said, looking hurt.  "But let's do something tomorrow together, yeah?"

So, I'm sat here, fully expecting him to call at any minute.  I'm not sure my nerves are up to it.

21 commentaires:

Peter a dit…

I get the feeling it's not only 'home sickness' from his part but falling in love too.

Pure Poser a dit…

Bless his little socks, he doesn't want to be alone. I'm guessing you want him have a wee bit of independence but he's not taking it.

travelling, but not in love a dit…

Peter, who knows? I wonder if he left a 'situation' behind back home?

Poser, I feel sad for him - but sad that he can't enjoy the opportunity to be in Paris for two weeks because he can' get over the homesickness...

laurie a dit…

my goodness, he cried? several times? surely something else is going on than homesickness and jet lag. and even though we americans are a selfabsorbed group, it is a bit unusual even for an american to have never stayed in a hotel... do you know his story? it sounds like an intersting one. though one that could prove a bit difficult for you.

travelling, but not in love a dit…

Laurie, I fear it's a story that I'll never get to the bottom of. Which is a shame because he's kind of a nice guy.

Henry North London a dit…

Interressant, Je peux louer cet Americain? I could hop on a Eurostar and hold his hand on the Metro? If you need time alone that is?

I jest of course I have a beautiful dog to look after but the thought does cross my mind sometimes.

Having said that I cried off a date today because I was aching this morning Im not in any fit state to entertain anyone

tornwordo a dit…

I think I would have laughed at the sobbing. The (sex) sounds fun.

aims a dit…

At least he feels comfortable enough with you to show his real emotions. We all know you're a sweetie underneath - and I guess the world is getting to know that too (the way you're going through them - wink wink)

Lane a dit…

Certainly sounds like a little more than homesickness for just 2 weeks. Just how young is this guy?:-)

alan a dit…

eeck! At least he feels he can (or must) open up around you!

La Mom a dit…

Just to let you know -- the crying jags are *not* typically American behavior! (But I guess you figured that out already...) :)

La Mom
An American Mom in Paris

Elfinamsterdam a dit…

Poor guy, first time away from home in a city that (i am supposing) he's not too familiar with the language either.

Good for him you are there, maybe not so good for you though.

I would have felt a bit like that when I moved to Paris first, I was 19 at the time.

The Pixy Princess a dit…

Was he drunk? Lots of people get weepy at that time. You're so much better than me. I'm always awkward as hell around crying people.

cb a dit…

Now HE would totally get my patented N! A! N-C-Y! Nancy nancy NANCY BOY! Cheer.

Seriously- he forget his Prozac back in the states?

Daisy a dit…

Oh dear, Travelling poor him. Poor you too! Hope he's able to enjoy the time in Paris. See you soon! x D

travelling, but not in love a dit…

Henry, excuses, excuses...you've got to be in it to win it, he he...

Torny, the (sex) was fun...and still is, he he

Aims, are you calling me a slut? cheeky madame!

Lane, he's not that young - late twenties?

travelling, but not in love a dit…

Alan, and boy did he open up...sorry that isn't as rude as it sounds. Well, it might be..... ;-)

La Mom, I hope not. Although he's only one of a very small number of cryers I've ever known...

Elf, I want to hear some of your paris stories...over a beer sometime ;-)

travelling, but not in love a dit…

Pixy, I'm not too good with the tears either. I just kind of hugged him and hoped it would go away...

CB - Nancy Boy indeed. You could lend him your scarf...

Daisy. Poor all of us I say! he he. See you soon indeed. Much excitement....x

Anthony a dit…

This blog is going downhill fast. When I started reading, it was all about more generous proportioned ladies of colour with big hair ... and now it's all about darkrooms. My, oh my.

travelling, but not in love a dit…

LaTanya, I think you'll find no mention of darkrooms in this post! I don't know what that is, anyway? Please enlighten me....

Daryl a dit…

For a moment I was sure all that cleaning was for naught.

How old is this 'boy'?

I hope you get him a nice box of Kleenex as a farewell gift ..