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French Fondue Kissing
My name is Chris and I'm 14. I was in Paris in January 2007 with my family. The jet lag was terrible the first day we were there, so we didn't do anything that day. The following night, we went down to this French buffet restaurant (I can't remember for the life of me what it was called). I wasn't feeling that well that night, so I waited a few minutes before I went to get my food.
I went into the next room, where the table was, I picked up my plate and I started at the end of the table. There was this gigantic cheese fondue pot, with huge stacks of bread of different sizes. The only reason I could think of for there being multiple sizes is you can take mini bread pieces to see if you like it, and if you do, you can have bigger pieces.
I took a few small pieces, but unfortunately, one of my pieces fell off this big fork (it's like two feet long!). Now let me ask you this. Did you know that when bread falls into fondue, it's polite for the person on the left of the dropper, TO KISS THE DROPPER?! I didn't know that!
So I drop a piece of bread, and this french girl on my left kissed me on my left cheek. And I was so shocked, I said in French, "Qu'est-ce que c'est pour?!" (What was that for?!). She turned around and I got a good look at her. I could type in a whole paragraph with me acting like a sad idiot, but I'll just say this.
She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen in my life, and she was my age!
So I said that in French, and she said in an incredibly sexy French accent, "Pardon?" I said, "Vous baisez moi! Pourquoi?!" (You kissed me! Why?!). I needed to stop shouting. She then replied in French, "Excusez-moi? Quand le main tombe dans la fondue, la personne sur le gauche du dropper, devoir baisez-vous le dropper!" (Excuse me? When the bread falls in the fondue, the person on the left of the dropper must kiss the dropper).
So I'm like, you got to be kidding me! I should have took the bread in a basket and dropped it all in there right then and there (I didn't of course! Ha!). So I apologize and I say I'm a silly English fool. And she says in perfect English, "That is alright. You are from America?" I say, "Canada, actually. "She replies, "Really? I went to Canada once upon a time. I must say that the boys there are really cute." (She emphasized 'really'). So I kind of freaked subconsciously there for a second (Side Note: You know how guys cream for chinese girls? For me it's the french. Ha!). So right then and there I stared right into space. So I quickly and calmly said, "Really? That's nice." Then she said, "You never told me your name? What is it?" I replied, "Chris." Then she replied, "Seriously? I met a boy when I was there named Chris. He was really cute too." No joke, I actually dropped my plate, as my hand spasmed after she said that. I went down to pick it up, but then the French girl stepped fown on my foot so hard; god it hurt. I opened my mouth ready to cry out in pain, but then she French kissed me, and oh my god, it was so firm, and so tender, I completely forgot about the pain in my foot for the minute she kissed me. But then, she stopped way too fast and left the room way too fast. I was standing there looking up at the ceiling so shocked as to what just happened, and pretty much the whole room was looking at me, smiling. Now you might be thinking, that's awesome. I was so shocked, it felt like the hammer of life came down on me like a son of a bitch and left me standing there. Also, there was this american person that came up to me and asked, "Are you English?" I said, "Yeah." He said, "Dude, you are so the man!" And then he slapped me on the back hard a few times. I went back to my chair, and chose not to eat anything for the rest of the night.
Anyway, after my parents finished dinner, we left and waiting for the valet to come back with our car. I saw the girl standing over to my right, so I ran over to her and asked, "I'm sorry. You never told me your name." She replied immediately, "Aliza." Then I said, "Uh, thanks for the kiss." She said immediately, "No problem, love." Then I finally asked, "So, does stuff like that happen often in France?" Then she shook her head, and then her car pulled up right then. She got in and I stared at her right until she closed the door. But then as she started to drive away, the car stopped and she jumped out and walked back to me and kissed me again for a full minute. She then left back in her car and I never saw her again.
You have no idea how much I wanted to kiss her again, and again, and again, and again, and again, and again. It had to be the most romantic thing that had, and ever will happen to me, and the sad part is, I'll never see her again. Although another good thing that came out of this, whenever I try to flatter a girl, I just tell her that story, and it's awesome. Although, none of them are like that French girl, and there is not a day I don't think about her.
Thanks for reading!
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