I once wrote a long email to a friend recapping some of my escapades.. I came across it recently and thought I’d share some choice bits. Here’s one. Let me know if you’d like to read others. All names changed.
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While in Paris during that summer of 2014, I met Emily on OKC (my account then only existing in Paris). We met in a cafe on Canal St. Martin (Le Chaland, it’s lovely) after work one night. She was from Seattle. Recently divorced. Starting over in Paris. She had a cute little apartment on the third floor that looked out over the 19e from a tiny balcony. A murphy bed. Thin, short hair, soft lips.
And that first night we talked and fucked and smoked and fucked some more. Played PJ Harvey videos and traded stories. She had been a caterer and worked, vaguely for microsoft on various creative-type projects. Creative and curious. Kind. West Coast energy.
Images. Standing in my boxers on her balcony in the middle of the night. Smoking. Wine glass. Watching the clouds slide across the sky. Picking her up while inside her, her legs wrapped around my back, carrying her from the kitchen to her bed.
She ended up leaving me for a French guy. Who was charming of course. It was understandable – I was only there intermittently. She wanted the full French experience. And I kept hanging out with her and her circle of ex-pat friends. The DJ from Florida. The Seattleites who floated in and out. I would still sleep over at hers sometimes. Sleeping naked without fucking (her rules). Just warm bodies craving skin-to-skin. And connection.
She was sweet. After the “break up” we went to see Nas and MIA on a double-bill – then had dinner afterwards at a shitty bistro in a rundown part of town but the steak tartare was decent and the cheese plate and the conversation were excellent.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/6xcpdf/escapades_emily_in_paris_2014_mf