Everyone says that it’s easy to date in New York City but hard to actually find a relationship. Besides, can you really simplify men into two broad groups?
One man alone — French or not — is already complicated enough.
Yet, even in the most beautiful city in the world, during the most beautiful time of year, romance does not always come easily. And why in God’s name would the waiter be telling us this? We threw our gelato away, too cold to eat on this Eskimo-style date.
Almost uniformly, there is a precocious young American girl, who finds both her womanhood and her independence in the City of Lights.
This happens in An American in Paris, in Truffaut’s Breathless, in Chaplin’s A Woman of Paris, in Funny Face, and in Charade, among others.
In NYC, however, it feels like a difficult and heavy topic.
I hear American women say this a lot: “Don’t worry. (That means Define the Relationship in case it’s not translating, and it’s the most dreaded talk a couple has.) This is hilarious.
I had a pleasant time, but after two unanswered calls and a text, I never heard from her again.
Or how about that time I went out to a girl’s cottage in Normandy only to find out that she wanted our relationship to be just “a weekend thing”?
Meanwhile, Americans ask you to “have dinner.” But is this an “I am asking you out”-type of question, or is it, “I am hungry, let’s go eat“? Is it annoying to date French guys here in America since you moved out of France? This is like asking me if it is annoying to eat croissants in New York.
I came here for the bagel adventure, but I hate cronuts.
You’ll notice in all of these it’s not just womanhood being attained, but also — you guessed it — a French man.