The Pub Crawl

It was brought to my attention I managed to skip writing about one of the most interesting nights in Paris... The Paris Brit Expats Pub Crawl.

Sigh, I love the Brits. They sure know how do make a girl feel at home. Or perhaps maybe wishing I was born on a different continent.

The night started out like most other nights, I was late, kind of lost, and a bit nervous about showing up at a pub crawl all by myself. Even when I met the group coordinator, I was still a bit scared. However, then I got to talking with a Midwest American couple, and began to remember why I'm no longer there.

At the second bar I was at I got into an interesting discussion about 80s music with an adorable man. It kind of started with the first thing popping out of my mouth having to do with how horrible the song was and that I would actually leave a night club if I heard this playing. Alright, over dramatic and a bit snarky I suppose, but really, it's me here. Snarky is one of the things I do best.

Interestingly enough, this Brit did not give me the "ball buster" look I usually get for my sarcastic ways. Instead we traded jabs about music for a little while... Him trying to "dig his way out of the negative points," he started with the very first song. Of course he might have caught up when I let is slip I have the same birthday as Justin Bieber. Thanks Hailey for that piece of information I might never get out of my brain.

I chatted with a number of people that night. Mostly Brits, with a few French and Australian, mixed in for good measure. I lost track of the Americans. Even though the women had a rather interesting job doing a mix of programming and training for a company setting up call centers.

It's weird trying to write about this night. Some of the things that make the night so wonderful are deeply personal. Like when I was headed to the third bar and beginning to cross the street the adorable Brit I was flirting about 80s music with took my hand. It startled me, but was so comforting. Just a simple act of helping me across a road made me feel safe in a way I long for. It's not the same safe as in I'm in a dangerous area and need protecting, but in a deeper, more feminine way. Like watching out for me was in his nature.

I really didn't expect to have anything come from that night. Really. Even when I first started talking to this guy, I didn't expect to be thinking about it now. Maybe that's proof positive of how off my radar is. Totally didn't realize he was interested in me. I felt awkward, a bit guarded. Maybe subconsciously trying to push him away before anything even happened. We danced, late in the night, too a song from Grease. We laughed. It felt amazing. I didn't really want the night to end.

He invited me back to his place, and fear kicked in. Just a little, a slow simmer, that nearly took over me later on. Dating these days is weird. I have been told so many times by nearly every article I have ever read, my friends and even by my own crazy mind how going home with a guy when you first meet him is the kiss of death. Yet there I was, looking into his blue eyes and I asking him, "do I trust you?" he replied yes. And... I believed him.