When in France

Submitted by Sam:

I met Colette, a cute French exchange student, at college and we went on two great dates just before she had to return to France to continue her studies.  It never got more serious than a sweet goodbye kiss, and I was bummed that she had to go so soon.  I thought that would be the end of it but it turned out we loved conversing via e-mail.  She invited me to visit her in Paris. 

Soon after I accepted Colette's invitation via e-mail, she mentioned Jacques, a classmate she was studying with nightly with in her flat, a guy who was "only a friend," and that it was "very nice" studying with him each night.  We would be staying at his parents' house outside of Paris during their spring break.  After a few days with her friends, Colette and I would take off alone to her family's country home in the Massif Central region. 

She said, "He's not my boyfriend!  There's nothing serious between us.  You won't find yourself between us."

I believed her and bought the tickets.

My first night with her at Jacques's house, she went out of her way to point out and make a big deal out of almost every faux pas that I made during dinner (hey, I'm new here and I'm trying!).  We slept in separate rooms, but at one point in the night, I saw Jacques slip down the hall, enter Colette's room, and he never came out.  WTF?

Next day, she and I with some of her friends walked around the streets of Paris, and as soon as we separated from the crowd a little, I asked her about the last night. 

She hissed, "You don't own me!  I am not yours!" 

A little later we checked out a movie poster.  She asked if I was familiar with the obscure French movie star portrayed.  I said no.  She looked embarrassed by my reply in front of her friends and quickly looked away from me.  The entire day went like this, and her shallowness was astounding.

When we finally made it to her parents' country place, she wanted to spend most of her time watching French movies, with no subtitles, on the DVD player.  When we finally did screw around, it was among the most joyless, sad experiences that I've ever had.

So a couple of days later, at the Clerment-Ferrand train station we bid our adieus, and without realizing it I backed away from her to head to my seat, without giving her a kiss.  She was stunned, and said angrily, "No kiss?"  I had committed my final faux pas.

The train sped off and what a huge relief.  For the first time in many days I paid attention to the French countryside, and fell in love with it.