So last night at my ritualistically horrible English lesson, my student Scratchy was so moved upon learning the reality of my French existence: a pitiful stipend of €15 a week while surviving off of bread, special K, and green beans from the can while having little purpose in my life other than dancing naked in my apartment to Lady Gaga, writing, and philandering shamelessly with the opposite sex, that he insisted he "show me France" next Thursday. He's on vacation for two weeks starting tomorrow, he insists, and, as he works full time as a mason, has "some money," and wants to pick me up at 9am and whizz me off into .. uh, France, on his motorcycle.
If my mom is reading from the Pacific her heart just skipped a beat. For what it's worth I asked him if he had a big helmet for me and protective gear.
What I'm hoping is that this means a fun filled day of sightseeing to little outlying French villages and hopefully some good food and wine on him. What I'm worried about is that it's going to be bugs in the face, sunburn, and an all day hostage situation. But weighing is for grocers! So I said "you bet your bottom dollar I'll go!" And he was like "...quoi?" and I was like "tout a fait, m'sieur!"
"Let your youth have free reign, it will never come again, so be BOLD and no repenting!"
good decision. I hope its the latter of the two scenarios of corse. Can't wait to hear about it... Is he at least good looking?
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