Wednesday, November 12


Waking up at Hotel V. on Boulevard Saint Germain means being faced with a daily dilemma: should I have coffee at Les deux Magots or at Café de Flore? After a few days in Paris Les Deux Magots seems a lot nicer than the neighbouring cafés. The waiters are cuter and they serve their coffee with the nicest chocolates. Back at the hotel I called my moto taxi guy, asking him how much he would charge for a trip to the main sites. He must have known it was a booty call, his voice started to quiver when he told me the price. In the end I told him I still had to think about what he was charging me.
I took a bath and used four different towels, including the one I threw on the floor. Then I thought how long I could continue to live this way, and if I would ever grow tired of casual sex. The next day I ate two strawberry pastries and the guy at the shop asked me: “Are you in love, or did you lose someone you love?” It was a joke of course, but part of his joke must have been the truth. Then I thought: was I really in love, or just in love with the idea of losing my love?