A girl should be two things… classy and fabulous – Coco Chanel
It was quarter to nine pm on a Tuesday evening and I was nearing the end of my french language class. I would be meeting Benjamin that night; he would be waiting for me outside of my classroom. He had messaged that he would be wearing all black, and hopefully I accepted that he had a dark side. This text was sent with a smiley wink face of course. Wonderful. This would be my first blind date in Paris. Benjamin and I had started talking that previous Sunday evening through the dating app… Meetic. This was equivalent to match.com in the states. He quickly requested my phone number and called me, which I appreciated. He seemed like a mature, confident adult on the phone, with a nonetheless charming accent, and I had agreed to meet him for a drink. Benjamin was full-on Parisian and had lived in Paris all his life. This should be interesting to say the least …I thought to myself. All I knew was he was 6ft tall, French, he had a charming accent when he spoke english and would be wearing all black. Beyond this and the one picture he had on the site, I was in the dark. No pun intended. I was wearing faded denim skinny jeans, a black blazer and a violet scarf. I wanted to do my best attempt at a classic Parisian look for him – light lip gloss and wavy hair, a spritz of perfume and my black leather jacket in tow.
He was waiting for me, and gave a big smile when he caught sight of the girl in the violet scarf. A grin lined my face as well, as he was cute…and tall. I felt a little twinge of excitement. He wore glasses, which I found sexy and found made him look intellectual. Benjamin gave me an embrace and kissed both of my cheeks uttering the ever famous casual Ca Va? An informal how are you? In French. I replied with my usual Trés bien, merci and smiled. He commented how my French was already improving and he loved my American accent. It was a nice, flirty introduction between the two of us and I knew instantly that I was happy to be joining him for a drink. We walked to a close café around the corner and took a seat. He walked on the side of the street closest to the cars stating that a woman is never to be put on the side of danger. I smiled. Oh how charming, just as I had envisioned a French man to be. He put his arm around my shoulder instantaneously which I thought was a bit forward, but I actually enjoyed this gesture. I felt like a lady. My heart really started to flutter when he called me mademoiselle in the next conversation. I knew that was a compliment because I was technically a Madame. A Mademoiselle was more of a youngster, or teenage girl. We decided on a cheese board with baguette and two glasses of Bordeaux.
Benjamin quickly lit up a cigarette within minutes, and I was very well aware that I would need to accept this if I was going to date a French man. The men in France were more likely than not going to smoke. I would just have to get used to this fact. He offered me one and I had a quick jolting moment of when in Rome…technically speaking, when in Paris, and received one out of his hand. I had never had issues with addiction and I had no intention of becoming a smoker. However, at this moment I felt like having a cigarette with Benjamin. So I did.
Benjamin had lived in London for two years and actually dated an English girl but never an American. No wonder his English was so fluent. He was charming, and very easy to talk to. He also had this air of mystery about him. I would talk more out of nervousness and he just didn’t seem nervous. I quickly learned that he was also comfortable in silence. He didn’t always need to be speaking, or asking me questions which I found appealing. After our cheese and wine, we decided to take a walk. Before I knew it we were strolling down little alleys that I never had been before. I felt overcome with enthusiasm that I was with a local and having a somewhat romantic little tour. It was so cliché and so needed for me in Paris. We stopped at a stoplight and he brushed the hair out of my face and gave me a sweet little kiss on the cheek. A night with a cute French man, a romantic stroll, a cigarette, cheese and wine consumed, what more could I want out of a date in Paris? I secretly hoped the kiss on my cheek was a warm-up, and I would be receiving a real kiss by the time the date came to a conclusion.
We were finally outside my building and I reached up to give Benjamin a hug. Low and behold he kissed me. We kissed for several minutes and then I turned to enter my courtyard. He slowly let go of my hand, and we smiled and said goodnight. Once in my attic, I received a text from Benjamin:
Great evening. It was a pleasure. Hoping you wanted that kiss as much as I did. I responded with – Of course. I feel the same. I never do things I don’t want to do.
I was officially welcomed into the dating world of Paris. I had no clue what I was getting myself into.
Dear Krista !! You so embody the wonders of Coco Chanel for you are always classy and Fabulous!!
Thank you for so eloquently sharing the joy and adventure of your Parisian experience . You have such a gift of transporting your readers right into the beauty of Paris !! I can’t wait to read your next exciting excerpt !!! Merci beaucoup ❤️ Tierney
Krista Bender says
Thank you so much Tierney! Such kind words XOXO