La France

It’s harder to get a date in France than you might think.

Going on vacation with my family certainly has its benefits, but socializing with handsome men between the ages of 24 and 40 is not one of them. (Yes, I realize that’s a large age gap.)

Case in point: earlier this week night, we are invited over to the house of a famous French artist and neighbor for “aperatifs” (cocktails). “We” consists of my mother, her boyfriend, his granddaughter (O, 14) and my little brother (T, 17). O, T and I were introduced as “les enfants” (literally, the children) then dismissed before dinner so they could have a party “entre adultes.” I guess being 26 still qualifies as being a child if you’re not married?

Also, my supposed “ night out” in St Tropez with my NYC roommate was slightly compromised when she invited my little brother to come to her house to have a proper French meal with the entire family. He almost backed out when I stalled the little blue Peugot three times in a row earlier in the day, but signed back on once I was given permission to take the bigger, automatic car instead. Which meant, Frenching a Frenchman was not in my cards for the evening. (But honestly, I was happier to have a fun night with my brother than kiss a stranger and get my 1.5 dates. Yes, really.)

This dilemma leaves me with the following date options:
1. The poolboy. Or poolman, shall we say. I got a quick look at him today and am not sure if the shirtless look and closely-shaved haircut is hot or trashy.
2. Someone from the local marché (will have to “shop” for this along with fruits, legumes, poulet). Maybe on of the cheese vendors, as inspired by KT? Or a meat man?
3. The 20-year old, American Pratt student with questionable sexual orientation we had dinner with last night.

Hmm, I’m thinking that none of these options are viable, especially since I am leaving tomorrow. I’m just going to have to go on a dating frenzy when I’m back from France and Canada. (And try not to feel too pathetic as a result of tomorrow’s leaderboard.)