15 October, 2010

The Frenchman. Part 2.2

Did I say tomorrow?  Oh, I meant tonight.

Because Frenchy texted me at 4.50 to say he wasn't going to make the date at 6pm.  Rather he said "We're going to have to cancel".  By which he means, he's going to have to cancel.  Stuck in Belgrave or some such. What bollocks.

Well, that's torn it.  He's out.  Cancelling, I can handle, after all, I was really going on the date so I could blog about it here (that's the problem with this blog, it's making me go on dates with the unworthy, just so I can tell you about it), but letting me know when it's too late to organise something else is just plain wrong.

No second chances you French fuck!

Happily, I've another date lined up next weekend.  So we're all good.

The Frenchman Part 2.1

Alors enfants!

The Frenchman, alas, dumped me.  Well, we hadn't actually had a date per say, but he decided that it was all too hard.  I sent him a message saying "Okay!  Ciao!".  And thought, well that's that.

Imagine my surprise to get a text from him yesterday saying he had a free night, and would I like to meet after all. He called me last night, said something inexplicable, and we sorted it out. So tonight's the night my lovelies! 

I shall update again tomorrow with the details.

11 October, 2010

The Frenchman. Possibly Part 1.

So I was totally stoked to be chatting with this French bloke. Firstly, he was smart. Or seemed to be, and secondly, I just love French blokes because they sound really sexy. Even if they're not.  As a kid, I was utterly mesmerised by Charles Aznavour.  I wasn't the only one.

We exchanged emails. They were flirty. It was fun. And then we spoke on the phone. This is where it all went pear shaped.

You see, I couldn't understand a fucking word he said. I'm all for a Frenchie, god damn yes. But he was telling me about a film he was making or something, and I just didn't get it. The conversation went something like this:

French bloke: Oh, well [cordon bleu, son des mots, bonsoir, petit pois, entrez-vous] the film and [À qui pâté en croûte de gorge de chèvre est celui]!

Me: Sorry?

French bloke: The film! It's [odeur de ces roses des figues de décomposition] and that's how I [mon âne a une queue brune]. Cool huh?

Me: I really didn't catch that.

Frenchy (slightly exasperated): Oh, it was [le poisson est dans la table de dressage].

Me: Oh really! Huh. How 'bout that.

Of course, I was still clueless. It was worse when he asked me a question.

So we kept trying to hook up. But he only wanted to meet on weekends, and I only could meet week nights, and in the end I got a text message saying "Are you free anytime in the next three days, or should we just give up? Doesn't seem that we are able to synch our schedules, so I am wondering if there's any point taking this any further...;-) What are your thoughts?"

I waited a few days, but I said I'd still like to catch up. After all, it seems a terrible shame not to have the chance to not understand him in person.

I'll keep you posted.