City tromping
Today Sherry and I woke up and lazed around a little bit before heading to the Marche aux Puces Saint Ouen, supposedly the largest market in the world, located on the outskirts of the city (though at least on my side of it.) It's kindof like several normal-sized markets all next to each other and combined into one. It's mostly old antiques and a lot of upscale antique furniture. Anyway, we wanted to check it out just for fun, but decided that there wasn't really much there for us. We metro'd into the city, just across the river from the Eiffel Tower, to meet Patrick, a colleague from the office here who wanted to meet us for lunch and a boat tour along the river. (Note that he hadn't offered to do anything with me outside of work hours until Sherry came to town.) But at any rate, the lunch and tour were both good, despite a constant drizzle, and afterwards Sherry and I told Patrick we wanted to go shopping on the Champs-Elysees (which was true, but we also had a preconceived plan to ditch him so we could catch up the two of us.) Our shopping trip turned mostly into a window shopping trip, since we didn't buy much, but we did find another cool bar, this time on the south side of the C-E.For dinner, we decided that we wanted Asian, but nearly the only Asian food I've been able to find here has been the kind where it's all sitting out, pre-cooked, and they microwave what you want -- it's basically like ordering leftovers at a counter-service restaurant. That didn't really seem fitting for Sherry's last night in town. So instead, we metro'd back up near my place, and after another Asian strike-out, we headed to La Rughetta, the Italian place I've been to with Dave (from NI) twice before. It was packed, and I thought we wouldn't get a table at first, but they did seat us at a very small, cramped table right near the front door. There was an old woman there who was by herself, except for a large quantity of wine on her table, and everyone there seemed to know her. She also was wearing a lot of makeup and what I can assume is every piece of jewelry she owns. Everybody started egging her on, and she eventually got up and serenaded everyone a capella, to everyone's applause (not that she was fabulous, she's just a regular every weekend.) It was cute, actually. Anyway, our table location turned out to be good luck, because a French guy and his dad ended up being seated next to us. Sherry started talking to them -- good going, Sherry -- and we really hit it off, the four of us. The guy is Jimi, just a little older than me, and his dad Georges was in town for Jimi's birthday in a few days. They spoke perfect English, both of them having lived all over, so we talked about all kinds of things, including the fact that French people apparently don't date, but they hop from one monogamous relationship to another. (This is very practical information.) They also said they thought Sherry was from either Florida or Texas, but they couldn't place me -- ha ha! Yay! After Georges got us all a round of digestifs (limoncello for everyone else, amaretto for me,) we'd all exchanged info, and Jimi and I agreed we should go out ("American-style," he said, with a wink,) we walked outside to call it a night. (After running around all day and not going home before meeting a cute guy, I said to Sherry, "I'm suddenly very aware that I'm wearing sneakers.") Another fun night of meeting new people. God, I love Paris.
posted by Darcy @ 11:37 PM
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