I'm sitting at Starbucks and i'm just about to pull out my computer when a man comes up to my table. I remember him passing me in the line to the cashier, greeting me with a hello.
He asks me if he can sit down and have a coffee with me. I tell him i need to work (which i'm obviously now not doing because i'm a procrastinating little shit. I swear i have a word document and two tabs open on the Da Vinci code all waiting for me to start writing my book report). He still insists though that he really wants to have a coffee with me. It takes me three more tries to make it clear that i'm really not interested.
I know that when i'm an old hag i'm going to look back on these days and maybe even remember with fondness the times when random men would want to have coffee with me.
Well, here is a message to old hag Louise:
It's not as pleasant as you're confused memory makes it out to have been. It's mostly creepy, and really annoying.
Yesterday, Moa, Nora, and I spent a few hours under le Grande Arche eating dinner and drinking wine celebrating Moas last day as a 17-year old. During those few hours i think four different groups of men came up to us wanting to talk/hang out/leave together/n'importe qoui... Telling us we were "butiföl" (that's french-english for beautiful if you were wondering).
I mean sure, as long as they are civil and understand after the first telling that we'd rather be left alone to our girls night everything is a ok. But when it takes a few tries, some silent treatment, some "please just leave us the fuck alone"-looks, or "lets talk in swedish till they leave", it's really not that fun. Especially not when they get angry, call us degenerative or mean names, and just act like complete assholes.
Mind, these are not nice young guys. They ar usually close to thirty, creepy french men hitting on 17-year-old girls...
I dont know, maybe i'm just being a bitch about this. Is it that wrong that i don't approve admiration from old creepy men? That my heart doesn't flutter with satisfaction when a man oggles my legs and then calls out to me in the passing? That i don't take it as a compliment when a man calls me beautiful just so that he can get a cigarette and a phone number?
I don't feel beautiful, i feel like i should wipe off my makeup and put on more clothes.
In all seriousness, wearing shorts in Paris is like walking around with a "you now have the permission to stare the shit out of my legs and assume that i will have sex with you" sign over your head...
Things like this just make me even more stoked about moving back to Sweden.
Let me wear my shorts in peace thank you.