Crackhead Whiskey Frenchman

7 Jun

I used to go to this bar in Paris all the time and always see this gorgeous bearded French guy.  We would stare at each other but never say anything and I would flirt with other guys instead.  One night, he grabs my hand and asks my name and says that we should drink whiskey together some time.  We meet to have whiskey at a bar in the north of Paris a week later.  We have one glass and he says that it’s too expensive there and that we should just go to his apartment close by and drink more there.  I agree and when we get to his house we start making out.  I notice that he’s sort of trembling and in my head I’m thinking, “He’s so sweet and nervous.  He’s been wanting to do this for so long but hasn’t had the guts.”  I decide I might want to try to really date him so I leave before we have sex and in French he tells me to call him when I get home so that he knows that I got back ok.  I call him when I get home but he seems sort of confused about why I’m doing that and my French isn’t so great, so I realize that maybe I misunderstood him and he didn’t care as much as I thought he did about whether or not I got home ok.


We don’t hang out again but a week later my friend says that she saw him and all these heroin addicts hanging out by the subway and I realize that he’s probably a drug addict and wasn’t shaking because he was nervous and loved me.


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