I almost took part in a threesome on the way to work this morning.
The scene took place in a crowded, rush-hour metro, at 9:05 (although I should have been at work for 9:00). I was uncomfortably close to my fellow passengers, praying that the object pressing into my back was an umbrella or part of somebody’s bag. It being pre-morning espresso, I was not fully awake yet. The soundrack, courtesy of a couple of Eastern European buskers was a rendition of ‘My Way’ on accordian and a tambourine, the backing track blaring out from one of those amplifiers on wheels they all seem to have these days.
At Gare de l’Est a couple got on.
He was in his forties, and had what I call the ‘second-rate sales rep’ look. He was dressed in one of those rather unattractive mustard coloured suits that a certain type of Frenchman seems to favour, his trousers just slightly too short, revealing gleaming white socks. Nasty brown suede lace up shoes rounded the whole look off perfectly.
She, also in her forties, looked like his company’s receptionist: a little over made-up, brittle hair dried out from one too many home bleaching kits, outfit on the tarty side.
I am guessing that they had ‘got together’ for the first time the previous night. Which may explain – but certainly does not excuse – their slurping all over each other in the metro approximately 2 centimetres from my face for the entire journey. I tried to escape, but it was impossible to put any more distance between us. Looking down at my shoes didn’t help, as it only served to make me aware of what they were doing with their hands.
I don’t think I’ve snogged in public since I was at sixth form college (and in retrospect I cringe).
I couldn’t think of anything suitable to say as I gratefully beat a hasty retreat upon arrival at my stop. Can any of my French readers suggest a suitable French parting shot, the equivalent of ‘get a room’?