This is more of a misadventure versus a funny story. But it lends itself to the disaster that is my dating life.

The summer after I became newly single I dated an older “gentleman” who claimed to own a very successful business. He was always bragging about whom he knew and how much he paid for everything. These things do not impress me, but he had a dry sense of humor and was a good conversationalist so I was willing to give him a chance. After a few dates, he mentioned that he hadn’t taken a vacation in awhile and wanted to go to Paris. Thinking he was really lucky to be able to afford a trip like that, I told him he should go. When he told me he didn’t want to go alone and wondered if I would accompany him, I was quite shocked. We hadn’t really gone out that much, and really I should have reconsidered after he criticized my weight (“You would be cute if you lost a little weight”), but being the foolish girl that I am, I jumped at the opportunity.

After my initial enthusiasm wore off, I realized I didn’t quite feel right about him spending the money on me. So I told him that I was in no position to be able to afford a trip like that and I was uncomfortable with the idea of him paying. He quickly reassured me that it was no problem for him and he would be delighted to do it. He mentioned that if I wanted to contribute to the trip I could pay for the ride to and from the airport. Now that was something I could handle. I threw caution to the wind and accepted the offer.

Since he claimed to be a frequent traveler and wanted to handle all the reservations, I thought nothing further about letting him plan the travel portion. He even insisted that he only flies first class and how nice that made traveling. Having never been to Paris, I researched everything I could about monuments, sights to see, and restaurants that served vegan food. I was quite excited.

The date of departure arrives. We get to the airport and get our seat assignments. I notice that we are further back in the plane and the number seems like a middle seat. But he insists that since it is a big airplane, there are lots of first class seats. I really don’t know but I have my doubts. As we board, we pass the stairs to first class; we pass the business class; we pass the premium seats; and we go to the middle section of economy seats, middle of the middle row. Now, I am a guest here so I have no place to complain, but I am a bit surprised after his comments. Well, before we even sit down, he starts to protest the seat with the flight attendant. He gets louder and louder and more abusive and I start to shrink back. Turns out not only did he not buy a first class ticket, but he never bothered to get seat assignments, so these seats were the only ones left. But he refuses to take blame and gets even more combative. Finally I insist we take a seat so we don’t get thrown off the airplane.

Once we sit down, he confides to me, he never intended to buy a better seat but he thought if he complained enough, we would get moved up. I am mortified! Oy vey!

We settle into our seats and begin the long flight. After he gets up to go to the bathroom, the flight attendant comes and apologizes to me for the seat, and then, that I have to travel with him. She gives me a bottle of wine and wishes me well. What an angel.

After our arrival, I realize he doesn’t really understand customs and I guide him through the process. We hop in a cab to the hotel and begin our visit. He insists on going shopping as soon as we arrive, so I agree and we walk to a lovely area. After visiting a few shops, he starts to get angry with me that I’m not buying anything. I remind him that I don’t have funds for that and he scoffs at me.

Well, you can imagine, I am already starting to worry. Over the next few days, I discover that he WILL NOT visit any tourist attraction because he doesn’t want to “look like a tourist.” What?!?! I remind him that I am tourist and want to see these things, but he refuses. Now, I should have simply gone my separate way and done whatever I wanted, but quite honestly, he seemed a little clueless and I didn’t want him to end up lost, hurt or otherwise indisposed. And I couldn’t afford to change my ticket home.

He finally does agree to go to some of the sights- as in- walk past them. I saw the outside of the Louvre, Notre Dame, and the outside of several other churches. And because I am sassy, I make sure it is obvious that I am a tourist. I even lay down on the ground at Luxembourg Gardens to get a great photo. The look on his face was priceless. I ate at the restaurants he wanted, and had to pay every other time. Thankfully I had a credit card.

Finally, I had had enough. The number one thing on my list to see was the Catacombs. The last day I insist that I was going and he could enjoy his day doing whatever he wants. But he says he wants to accompany me. Oh joy. So we get there and, of course, there is a long line with a two-hour wait. He tells me he won’t wait in a line, but I can do what I want. So I jump in line by myself and make friends with the people around me. As the line snakes around, I see him sitting in a café drinking coffee and eating a croissant. Of course, the people in line around me know the situation and they are equally incensed. But nonetheless, I am going to enjoy the day.

Lo and behold, when I get to the front of the line, he shows up and joins me so he can see the Catacombs too! I am stunned. What is up with people?!?! I contemplate what the laws are regarding murder in France. Probably not worth it-I’m not very tough after all.

But I am visiting a mass burial site…maybe they wouldn’t notice the fresh body.

After insisting that I pay the entry fee, since I wanted to see it, I get to look at this amazing site. It was worth the wait. It was worth the jerk being with me. I really thought it was fascinating. And whenever he said something annoying, I imagined bopping him in the head with a thighbone. When we emerge from underground, I just say my thanks that I only have one more day.

Ignoring him the whole flight home in my lovely middle seat, I am so thankful to get back to LAX. We hop in a cab, and as we get to my car, he reminds me that I said I would pay for the ride to and from the airport. So I pay for the dang ride and jump in my car to drive away as fast as I can. I only heard from him once about six months later when he texted to ask me to buy something for him. I never answered.

Paris was beautiful. The metro made navigating the city very easy. Most people spoke some English and were so appreciative of the French I did know. I learned that many shopkeepers consider their store to be like a home, so common courtesy is to always acknowledge the shop owner when you enter the shop. This made a huge difference in how I was treated by the locals. I found the people very warm and welcoming, not at all like the experiences I have heard about. But if other Americans are like my traveling companion, I would be rude to them too!! Another dating lesson under my belt, and I have since decided that traveling on my own is a splendid luxury!

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