Inquiring Minds

People are asking us questions Because people are asking them questions. about what is going on, so let’s have us a little update session…

Cliff, the Scotsman, sits down on the couch across from us.

“So, you’ve been here for just a week?”

Yes, we reply.

“And you’re at someone’s house party?!?!? It took me five years to get to that point!”

Indeed, it seems we have fast-tracked our Paris experience somewhat. How in the world did that happen?

One word: Caroline. A quick aside: For the two decades that I have had the extreme good fortune to know her, Caroline has insisted that she (a) is incredibly uncomfortable meeting new people, (b) finds it difficult initiating a conversation with a stranger, (c) possesses very few social skills and is incredibly awkward in a group situation, and (d) is an all-around wall-flower. Based on my experience, I have absolutely no idea who this person is that she is describing.

You see, thirty-five years ago in 1990 she and a friend spent a month in Paris at Alliance Française to take an intensive French language course.

Among the other students that month was a young man named Mike. She remembered Mike because he has a somewhat unusual last name and it stuck with her.

As we were beginning our preparations for the move to France earlier this year she thought of Mike and figured she might search for him on Facebook and reach out to him. So she did. Because searching Facebook for someone you knew for a month thirty-five years ago and essentially cold calling him is exactly what someone with crippling social anxiety does ¯⁠\⁠⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠⁠/⁠¯

Her message boiled down to “Hi! Don’t know if you’re the same Mike that attended Alliance Française with me in 1990, but if you are, I am moving to Paris with my husband and would love to chat with you about your experience in France, even if it was decades ago.”

His response was nothing short of incredible. He told her that he was in fact that same Mike and that he still lives in France (as do his two daughters). He told her that he knows all the good night spots and he’d love to introduce us to his friends.

As time went on he mentioned that he and his friends were going to a “Big Band Christmas” performance at a local spot just a week after our planned arrival date, and that we should join them. We thought that having plans in Paris immediately after we arrived would be a very good thing and we purchased tickets in October.

As our move date approached Mike reached out to say that since the show will not be a quiet place for conversation, perhaps we should all meet the week prior to actually get to know each other.

A fantastic idea, but we were a little apprehensive since that was the actual date of our arrival and who knew if we would be awake that evening (or if our cat would be freaking out with the transition and would not appreciate us just up and leaving him mere hours after he got out of his carrier).

We tentatively agreed. Lucky for us we were not tired as the evening approached, Probably the adrenaline. and if you recall the last update, Nigel was surprisingly chill. So off we went to Harry’s to meet Mike and his friends.

We were delighted to discover that Mike and his friends Scott, Larry, and Joanne are all lovely people. And thus a cocktail or two progressed into dinner at a nice little Asian restaurant. At 9:30pm, I might add. Which if you know Caroline is an almost inconceivable dinner time. I guess she’s not the same girl we sent off to camp.

Which brings us back to Cliff and the house party at the beginning of this story. You see, Larry and Joanne were having people over for a little Christmas get-together after that big band show. And we were invited to join the fun.

And that is how we found ourselves at a Parisian apartment sipping wine and admiring the view of the Eiffel Tower out the window just seven days into our new life in France.

I know, we don’t really believe it either.