Hi everybody. Welcome to the blog where I talk about the past.
A friend of my family stopped by. Actually, he’s a friend of my Da'd’s. He stops in once in a while to check in on me. Anyway, for whatever reason, we started talking about past relationships. He was curious about my previous relationships. I felt my old nervous tick coming on. (I used to have a nervous tick where I’d twitch my nose like a rabbit.) Anyway, I’ll share one relationship with you. It was crazy. It was when I lived in Paris, in the ‘90’s. I dated a French actress (that should reveal everything to you). The girl was cool though. She ran with a, well, let’s say, different crowd. I’ll set the mood for you. I think I told you this before, but I was at a dinner party with this crowd and the girl next to me started talking to me. I made small talk and asked her, “What are you doing this weekend?” She said, “Oh, I’m taking daddy’s jet. I’m going to London for a party. What are you doing this weekend?” I said, “Me? What am I doing this weekend? I’m doing my laundry.” It was fun going out with this young woman though. She actually came from a very famous French family. She was a distant relative of a famous French impressionist. You would know the name if I told you. It was kind of cool, because everywhere we went we would get good service at restaurants. Good tables, that sort of thing. Then we broke up and I got stuck in the back corner with the payphone and the coats.
I’ll share with you one other story with my adventures between her and I. She wanted to go stay at a “friend’s” house just outside of Paris. Well, we took the train to a small village just outside of Paris. She said it was a bit of a walk to her “friend’s” house. Oh man! I felt like I was on the Butan death march. It must have been a couple of marathons before we got there. Then, the guy, her “friend,” kept staring at me. He didn’t say much, he just stared at me. Then she told me he was a little “off” because he used to be an MI-5 agent. Needless to say, I didn’t sleep much.
I’m gonna leave it at that, because if I share anymore stories I’m gonna start drinking again, and I’m not supposed to drink with my meds.
Love and miss you guys,
Love, B. Nice