If it was torture for me, but my date seemed to enjoy it.
“Mmmmh, this accent…,” he said in a voice that can only be described as pervy.
In response, I got the reassuring “No worries—I’m not a rapist” and a sarcastic “You’re such a nun.”For a (long) minute, I regretted downloading Tinder.
Meeting people in France generally goes by the old-school method: dating friends of your friends, my dear!
Most of the guys I’ve dated have already been part of my circle somehow — former classmates, roommates of a coworker, soccer teammates of a cousin, etc.
This is a reputation American men hold overseas that turns out to often be true—that they ghost, date many women at the same time and have commitment issues.
I experienced it first hand with someone who kept telling me every day how much he loved me and cherished me until I found out on somebody’s else Twitter that he was a cheater.
We began the morning with a visit to the Louvre before stopping for ice cream and continuing to wander the city for hours, talking without interruption.