Me: Opens car door at 11pm at night
Taxi Driver: [Says something in French]
Me: *dear in headlights*
Taxi Driver: [Angerly motions to close his door] Yells, “Close. No. No. Close”
Me: *Freaks out* Calls over to Gil (speaks French fluently) who is casually taking pictures of the Arc de Triomphe while I get scolded by the “nice” cabby
Gil comes over and says something in French that could not have been more than 3 words. The cabby immediately gets out and opens the car door FOR ME! We get in and Gil easily says, “You just have to try.”
I had choice words in my head, but at that point I was just glad we were in the cab. Gil can make conversation with just about anyone, but especially when we are traveling abroad. I am a very friendly person, but to the people of Paris, my lack of language makes me an arch nemesis.
We are in the cab and hook a right to travel down the dark road that is lit every so simply. Even as I type this I am getting butterflies. So, we are in Mean Man’s Cabby and the trees are covering “It”. I can make it out, but it almost feels unreal. There is a break in the trees, I look up and see the Eiffel Tower.
Listen. I do excite easily. I love hard. I enjoy amazing movie endings. I think the best in all things. I want the world to be a better place. Happiness is the goal in life and I am cynical about almost nothing except “sugar free” shit. I’ve never understood the point of such a product, but I digress.
Driving beyond these trees and looking up during the dark of night to see this incredible monument took my breath away. No lie. I got choked up, looked at Gil who I am pretty sure thought I was losing my mind and started to cry. I don't even think I thought about Paris or the Eiffel Tower that way which is odd because you do not get more “girly girl” than I am, but it didn't dawn on me that seeing the Eiffel Tower would mean so much. It did. The weather was slightly chilly. We get out of Mean Man’s Cabby who was gracious beyond belief and opened the door for us. *eye roll*
We get out and there are maybe 20 other people strolling the streets. Gil is taking pictures. He takes amazing photos. It is quiet and we are just chatting and I’m skipping. He looks at me like I’ve grown a second head because he can be “too cool for school”.
Ok, so then it happens. We walk back toward the Trocadéro which is another historical site in Paris, including a museum and garden. There is a walkway that we begin to meander on and I’m going on and on about where we are and how magical it is and then Gil starts going on about how far we’ve come. I remember most of what he said surprisingly, but I’ll keep some of the gushy stuff for just us. At this point, he is down on one knee. I notice finally and he asks me to marry him. I cried some more and freaked out because while most people will say, “Duh. Paris.” You do not know Gil. It could have easily been at the 7 Eleven on Broward Blvd in Ft Lauderdale where we first met. #dontask.
Either way, it wasn' a surprise. I knew it was coming because I just knew. We had been through too much and I had already bought my dress...because me. I just did not think it would happen in Paris.
It was wonderful and everything a “lady” (#teehee) like me could dream.
I’m now cheesing from ear to ear now so I’ll leave you with this.
Paris is very diverse, expensive, easy to travel around and so much to take in. I hope you go if you have not done so already. Do it alone, with your parents and/or with a mate, but when you do it, do it at night.
P.S. Third best part of Paris was seeing how blissfully excited Gil was to be at the French Open. Biggest tennis fan you’ll ever meet. Not going to lie, second to hockey, really cool sport to watch live.