curious questions #2

So, I was on the métro heading home the other evening. The train was full, rammed, blindé.

I hate it when the train is full - I'm always thinking that I'll get my wallet stolen, so I tread a fine line between keeping my hand on my pocket and holding on to a 'grippe-A'-infested handrail.

At Hôtel de Ville, a guy got on and came to stand next to me.

Well, I say he came to stand next to me - he actually had little choice, it was the only space available. And he didn't stand next to me, so much as stand against me.

I looked up to see who had suddenly squashed up against me. It turned out to be a well built, hairy, well-dressed bear of a man. As I looked at him, he chose the same moment to look at me and there was an uncomfortable moment when eye-contact was briefly made.

Well, it was uncomfortable for me - it's just not the done thing - but for him it seemed to be the opposite.

"Bonsoir" he said, cracking me quite the grin.

"Bonsoir", I replied, looking away.

Two stops later, the train pulled out of Bastille station. We both looked up at the same time, again.

"Where are you getting off at?" He asked.

"Quoi?" said I. "What?"

"Which station are you getting off at?"

"Gare de Lyon", I replied. The next stop.

"That's a shame" said the bear. "I'm staying on until Vincennes".

And with that, the train pulled in to my station. I stepped out and gave a backwards glance at the guy.

He once again cracked that big smile and winked. Yes, he winked at me.

Nice to know the old magic is still there, but I have one question - how did he know I'd be interested in what he was offering?

Hmm. Could it be because when he purposefully pushed his crotch into my wallet-protecting hand after saying bonsoir, I didn't pull away? I may even have pushed back a little.

Yeah, thinking about it, that might be what gave the game away...

curious questions #1

A couple of days ago, I left le FP on the sofa and headed out in search of a taxi to take me to meet friends for a drink in the Marais.

It was nearly one a.m. and I asked the taxi driver to drop me on the corner of rue du Temple and rue Ste Croix de la Bretonnerie. This is an intersection where you'll find at least five gay bars within twenty metres. It's kind of poofy like that.

"You smell like basil" said the taxi driver as I settled into his cab.

"Really?" said I, a little taken aback.

"Yeah, like a bowl of pasta" he replied.

"Good enough to eat?" I ventured, jokingly.

"Well, erm, maybe" he replied, definitely uncomfortable with the turn the conversation had taken.

"le Marais is full of queers you know" said the taxi driver.

"Really?" I said. "You do surprise me."

"Are you gay?" he asked.

"Why do you ask?"

"Well, you don't look gay but you're going to the Marais at this time of night".

"Well," I said, "I'm not gay, but my boyfriend is." I nearly pissed myself laughing at how funny I found this.

"I don't understand" said the taxi driver.

"Never mind" said I. "Probably best if you just concentrate on driving".