One thing I miss, and hear me out on this, is creepy looks. Ok, maybe not creepy looks, but being checked out. And I don’t say that like I think I’m Gisele Bundchen – although I think we can all see the resemblance – because in the United States, if you have at least one boob, or anything that could pass for it, you will get checked out on a daily basis. But in France, it seems like guys actually, like, respect you, or something like that, I’m not familiar with the concept. All I know is they don’t give you the same kind of construction worker looks that I am accustomed to when walking down the street.
French women tend to look at me, and I assume everybody else unless I have been secretly walking around with poop on my face, very critically. In order to describe this, I’m going to give a very specific example that I’m sure many of us can relate to: It’s like when you’re wearing something kind of slutty but, to be fair, you look pretty good in it, and you go to a guy friend’s party and you walk in and there are more of his girl friends (girls that are friends) that you don’t know there and as soon as you walk in they size you up then start talking to each other. Let’s hope none of my former English teachers are reading this and that that run-on sentence didn’t just give them a heart attack. Anyways, you get my point: imagine that look they give you as soon as you walk in, and you have pretty much seen the countenance of every French woman.
Alright, so there you go. With a few exceptions in bars (not that I have been to a lot of them Mom), French people are significantly less creepy than Americans. It’s kind of a bummer because, to be honest, I have been killing it in the wardrobe department lately. Oh well, c’est la vie.