November 25, 2010

The Frenchman: Part I

There is a reason posting has been irregular of late.

I don't quite know how to say this. It has certainly come as a shock to me. I considered trying to ease into the news, but all my efforts in that course proved useless. So I'm just going to give it to you straight, as it were. I met someone!

About two weeks back I was forced to make it to my company’s annual party, with every intention of leaving the venue before noon.
I realize that the words "I cannot stay another minute at this party," "I hate it here," make no sense to my bunch of colleagues who I hang out with. And yet they're absolutely smart, every one of them.
Since my plan of bailing out of event was by no means secure, I settled down in despair, most importantly not recovering the mind that I had obviously lost.

The one small mercy in that day’s event was that I got my eyes settled on a rather amusing foreigner, (a Frenchman) who I thought had entered the wrong party, which meant that I was sitting down and belting out comments every 5 minutes. The problem was that he was working for the same company I was, just out of a different building. Hence, I hadn’t seen him before. And he also happened to have a friend who was a part of my audience. Yeah, after I got to know that piece of news, five minutes of silence and embarrassment seemed like an eternity.

I met him a few minutes later as he smiled and shook my hand. I stuttered about how nice it was to meet him that I wanted to put my eyes out with a carving fork.

The days following our meeting he has asked my friends about me and then finally picked up the phone and asked me out on a date. It would have been a little braver of me if I answered him by not pitching my voice higher.

Baby steps, Eve. Baby steps.

Stay tuned, in any case, for my next post of Drink Poison, Drink Poison, Explode with Joy.

I'll be the one drinking poison.


There are days when it’s hard to comprehend the impressive talent that was The Cure. I’m not sure the world will ever see another front man that literally owns the audience in the way that Robert Smith could. I’m not even sure it’s possible anymore. All that aside this is a fairly awesome track of The Cure titled ‘Lovesong’.

To the Frenchman

5 Pulses Say:

agent green glass said...

ooo. frenchman i say. oooo.

Unknown said...

Ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!!! Congratulations!

Now let's see the picture!

Choco said...

Aahhaa! I was smiling like a goofball all through this post. :)
Keep us posted will you.

ps: I am still smiling :)

Eveline said...

@Agent Green Glass: :D He's a bundle of French stereotypes: thick, pouty lips, smoldering eyes, great blazer tossed casually over a black t-shirt. And he's beautiful. :)

@Shadowthorne: Certainment! Will put one up soon and thank you :)

@Choco: hahahaha. Sure, Choco. :) The thing about Frenchmen is that they are very confident. They're not afraid to look at a beautiful woman and tell her she is beautiful. :) Gotta love that about them.

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