"Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song,
A medley of extemporanea;
And love is a thing that can never go wrong,
and I am Marie of Romania."
-Dorothy Parker

They don’t call Paris the City of Love without reason. Everyone in Paris is in love. Couples make out in the subway, in cafes, on the street, under bridges, in the toilets. Think of the most un-romantic place possible, and I can almost guarantee you a Parisian couple is making out there this very moment. If you ever find yourself recovering from a bad break-up and think that a vacation to Paris might cheer you up, think again. Your singledom will only be bolded, highlighted, and underlined the moment you step out the door.
The French men who aren’t attached do not provide much help, either. They are actually quite shy, according to Anne-Sophie, the French intern at the Accent Center, and my own personal observations have confirmed this. They won’t come up and start a conversation with you, and I’m sure not going to go up to one and start talking to them, considering the fact that I have the French vocabulary of a five-year-old. Sometimes a French guy will say “oh la la” or some such nonsense when you pass in the street, but that’s no way to actually meet someone. Besides, would I really want to be with a guy who says “oh la la?”
It’s really other foreign men who are the forward ones – especially the Italians, of which there seem to be a lot of in Paris, oddly enough. They hit on you and don’t even try to hide it. Take today, for example. I was meandering around the Carrousel du Louvre, the mini-shopping mall under the Louvre. (My friends went to Giverny today, but I stayed in the city as I had already been and wasn’t willing to shell out the 63 Euro for a repeat trip.) I stopped to get a café crème at a little self-service café. As I was waiting in line, this Italian waiter ran up to me saying “Bella! Bella!” and told me he would help me. He ushered me inside the little coffee shop and made me a café crème himself and asked if I spoke English. This is how the conversation went:

Me: Yes, I speak English.
Waiter: You are so beautiful.
Me [caught off-guard]: Thank you…?
Waiter: Where are you from?
Me: Texas.
Waiter: Oh I love-ah your accent. Texaaaahs. You stay and drink coffee wiz me?
Me [silently praying my café crème will be ready immediately]: Um…Actually I can’t, I’m meeting friends.
Waiter: Oh. What is your name?
Me: I’m Kate.
Waiter: Ohh, like Kate Whiz-late?
Me: Excuse me?
Waiter: Kate Whiz-late.
Me: Ah, Kate Winslet. No, I’m no Kate Winslet.
Waiter: Yes. You Kate Whiz-late, I am Leonardo diCaprio.
Me: Haha.
Waiter: Ah, you smile, you smile. Please tell me how old are you?
Me: I’m 20.
(This elicits a big smile from said waiter.)
Waiter: You are married? Have boyfriend?
Me: Oh, I have a boyfriend. (Ah, what a wonderful phrase – whether it’s true or not, in saying it, you can immediately turn down a man and it’s nothing personal.) He’s very large and could probably break your neck. (Okay, I didn’t add that part.)
Waiter: I wish the best to you and your boyfriend. I hope to find someone as beautiful as you to be with forever.
Me [grabbing the café crème]: Hehe…okay, I’m going to go now, thanks!

Holy Moses. All this while getting a coffee. You have to admire the straightforward-ness, at least – American men would never say things like that! Maybe life would be that much easier if we could all just go up to a potential partner and say, “Hello. I think you are the most gorgeous human being I’ve ever set eyes on. Are you single? Can I get you a café crème?”