Mr. Icky

A friend of mine has insisted that I talk about my disastrous entanglements with NON-frenchmen.  So, Martin, this is for you.  It’s not a recent story, but it’s still a notable one.

This was a while back when I was moving out of my first apartment.  I was selling  my stuff on Craigslist, and since I was in a hurry, I didn’t think before receiving random craigslisters alone in my apartment (I know.  I’m an imbecile.)

This was how I met Mr. Icky.

He had come to pick up his purchase, and we started chatting.  At some point, we touched upon the subject of “la bise,” the French practice of greeting people with kisses on both cheeks.  We discussed how, being both American, we were having trouble getting used to it.

He was a nice enough guy, but this was when I had to ask him to leave because I was expecting an important phone call.  I walked him to the door, and as I was waving him out, he turned to me and said,

“So may I kiss you?”

Since we had just been talking about the cheek-kissing tradition just 30 seconds earlier, I assumed that this was what he meant.  I thought that he had asked my permission because he was being considerate about how uncomfortable I was with having strangers kiss my cheeks.

Boy, was I a dumbass.  Obviously, that was NOT what he meant.

The next thing I know, this guy had his tongue shoved down my throat.

I felt so… VIOLATED.

And for the record, he was a terrible kisser.  I won’t get into details, but let’s just say that I’d rather eat glass than repeat that experience.  At the time, I almost vomited into his mouth.

The moral of this story is two-fold:

  1. Don’t receive craigslisters alone in your apartment.
  2. When he asks to kiss you, just say no and shove him out the door.

I know, I know, both of these truths are self-evident.  But at the time, I just assumed that he was a decent guy who was considerate of my comfort level with French greetings.  Totally my fault, I am the first to admit that I had a total brain fart moment.

But that does not change the fact that, while both parties were sober and NOT at a night club, he tongue-molested a girl he had known for twenty minutes.

ICKY.

Next, next and, please, God, please… NEXT!

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2 Comments

Filed under Misters

2 responses to “Mr. Icky

  1. Pingback: Ms. Top Five « Man-shopping in Paris

  2. Ha. I had an experience through leboncoin.fr. I wanted to buy a coffee table, so I talked to this guy on the phone about it…. and for some reason he insisted on getting coffee with him before getting the table. I just wanted the table. But he was using this as an opportunity to get a date. Needless to say, I did not buy the table from him.

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