Building On The Sand: Choosing The Right Beachside Property

He was somewhere in the blurry tequila background, interjecting from time to time. Between my inherent drunkenness and my complete oblivion to most subtle male advances, I really had no idea of his intentions and even less of how our meeting would alter the course of my life in such a dramatic way. It’s hard to say today that I regret that coming together, because we have had good times….but I have to say that deep down inside of me, there is a screaming little voice that says I probably regret nothing more. Or nearly nothing.

Despite my state of advanced inebriation, I suddenly remembered that I had a handsome German guy coming to my apartment for dinner. It was getting late and somehow, Husband du Jour convinced me that it would be a good idea if he drove me home. He did. He came in to visit my humble studio apartment, feigning interest in my living conditions and slipped a sly hand into my tights. That was when I realized that he wasn’t just a Good Samaritan. He invited me for lunch the following week, I said yes without really thinking that he would even show up. I thought the invitation was just a sort of payment for feeling me up. He left, I made dinner and enjoyed the company of my sexy German friend.

I dressed accordingly for my Monday lunch invitation without much enthusiasm. I doubted that my new friend would show up at all, and then he did show up. We ate fish in a restaurant by the port of Nice and then took a lovely seaside drive to Villefranche where we drank cocktails in the sun on the terrace of a bar overlooking the Mediterranean. He was trying to impress me and I guess that it worked. The afternoon looked nothing like my student life, far less opulent, less scenic as well. Yet back in America, I had gotten used to dating men a bit older than me, to being offered more than beer and pizza, so in a way, the situation seemed quite normal to me. He told me he was 34, to me an age quite advanced, nearly old.

That would be the first of a long series of lies. He was 44, roughly the same age as my parents.


  1. Dawn D

    I’m glad you’re picking up on this series. It must feel good to put in writing what you felt, what you feel.
    Keep writing, it’s cathartic πŸ™‚

    • pivoine68

      It’s like I finally realize what it is I really need to say. You’re right, it is cathartic…although I am not sure that it will be enough to get me through. It feels good though, pinning it down. I’ve seen it all along. Quelle idiote!!!! Merde.

      Je t’embrasse,

      • Dawn D

        Ah, vision is always perfect with hindsight! I had felt it all along too, still took me 20+ years to react :-/

        You will find a way to get you through. The way will present itself if you believe in it enough. πŸ™‚

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