Saturday, September 8, 2012

Do I look like a peasant, too?

I've always thought, deep down, that I'd make an excellent spy. I have a knack for attracting interesting international characters, and last night was no different. After an exhausting but amazing day of sight-seeing, I sat down at a bar to have a glass of wine and order some dinner (delicious warm feta with eggplant, green beans, tomato, kalamata olive, etc). A foreign gentleman came up to the bar to pay, and started chatting me up...for the next two hours. He spoke of the finest restaurants he frequents, staying at the Four Season in NYC, and his lovely Tom Ford suit. Oh and his Australian mistress. He showed me his Harrods card (I asked when he'd take me shopping--soon), and he talked about his love of Irish people--because they look like peasants. After his exuberant verbal display of affection for MY Irish complexion ("It is in your eyes!"), I asked him if I looked like a peasant. He said I did not, which made my day. He continued to rave about how wonderfully independent, irresistable (French accent style), charming and lovely I am. "You only have one boyfriend? You should have four! If I were a younger man, I'd want you to have all my sons." No boyfriend actually, but I had to keep him at bay. And hey, work it, free dinner! Sir also insisted that I Google him on my phone to confirm that he was who he said, and it turns out he actually is kind of a huge big deal. Eventually we parted ways, with promises to send me bottles of wine from his family's vineyard.

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