“Et si on se disait 20h00, au Bar Hemingway du Ritz” suggests my blind date.
I google the Hemingway Bar, note in passing that cocktails cost a cool twenty three euros, and read about “The Orchid Ploy”.
Sitting at a table in the Ritz Bar one day with his friend Ernest Hemingway, Scott Fitzgerald spotted a ravishing young woman, unfortunately (in his view) not alone. He had a bouquet of orchids sent to her table, but she sent it straight back.
Before her stunned gaze, Scott Fitzgerald promptly began devouring the blooms, one by one… until she gave in and agreed to meet him.
And there was me thinking that being wooed online by a person who claimed to have fallen in love with petite anglaise before he met me was impossibly romantic. In future I shan’t take a suitor seriously unless he can polish off an entire floral arrangement in one sitting: petals, leaves, stems, cellophane and all.
An invitation to the Ritz represents something of a departure from the norm, and is not a little intimidating. Working from home means that I rarely leave my beloved Belleville. I roam the streets in my bobo uniform of ripped jeans, layered t-shirts and trainers, and on a good day I may drag a brush through the knots in my hair. My social skills have atrophied, the smart clothes section of my wardrobe is poised to make someone at the Red Cross very happy, and I’m unused to paying more than three euros for a Chinese beer.
I arrive, wearing a simple jersey dress and flat shoes, and ask a liveried doorman for directions. The Hemingway bar, it transpires, is at the far side of the hotel from the entrance. I follow the gilded signs, traipsing along (what feels like several kilometres of) carpeted corridors lined with display cases. Inside, gaudy Hermès scarves nestle alongside quilted leather handbags with gold chain handles. I stride on, feeling smug about my choice of sensible footwear.
The bar is tiny, wood panelled, and frankly not as lavish as I’d hoped. I spy no lone men – although at one table there is an unattended coat and motorcycle helmet – so I take a seat at a table alone, and pick up the menu, which is styled to look like a newspaper. A few seconds later, a uniformed barmaid brings me two tiny bowls of apéritif snacks and a glass of something transparent in which pieces of cucumber bob among the ice cubes. “I haven’t actually ordered yet,” I point out, thinking there must be some mistake.
“This is just the complimentary water, Madam,” she replies, pursing her lips at my lack of worldliness. I feel like Vivian Ward crossed with Eliza Doolittle.
I take a sip of my complimentary water, and begin to hanker after a cold, uncomplicated, two euro beer Aux Folies.
about
books
press
fbk
petite anglaise 
You can’t leave us there, oh the suspense!
Comment by Crazy Armadillo — April 17, 2007 @ 9:14 pm
Very intriguing. If you fancy a little cozy luxury in an intimate setting, I recommend the Bar des Anglais at the Hotel Regina on Rue de Rivoli. Cocktails are around 20 euros but it is money well spent…
Comment by Ariel — April 17, 2007 @ 9:26 pm
Hanging on the suspense…I suppose all that can be done is to go eat a few ritz crackers with cheese. I blame you entirely for making me go back on my diet. ;)
Comment by La Cubana Gringa — April 17, 2007 @ 9:29 pm
You’ve won my heart with a Pretty Woman reference. I promise to eat something green and flowery next time I see you. I’m also reminded of a very long joke. A man is having a drink on his own at the bar when suddenly he hears a tiny little voice saying “Oooh, like your haircut!” He turns round but can’t see anyone in the vicinity, so goes back to his drink. A few minutes later he hears a different voice, again, not very loud, saying “LOVE that jacket!” But still, no-one to be seen…
Comment by rhino75 — April 17, 2007 @ 9:31 pm
Come on Petite – we’re waiting…
Comment by teeweewonders — April 17, 2007 @ 9:54 pm
It wasn’t bloody Gary Savage AGAIN, was it?
Comment by JonnyB — April 17, 2007 @ 10:00 pm
OMG so juicy! More more more! OK, I just stuffed my mouth with tulips, can I get the rest of the story now?
Comment by frog with a blog — April 17, 2007 @ 10:15 pm
… and Rhino, forget those flowers, we said no solids till September!
Comment by frog with a blog — April 17, 2007 @ 10:16 pm
Silly ElizaViv!
Everyone knows the drinks are the ones with the orchids floating in them! And at twenty three euros per, those cocktails had better tickle something other than just your fancy :! I say get ‘im drunk, petite, than have your way with him in one of those posh hallways…
Comment by Belle — April 17, 2007 @ 10:40 pm
Oooh, but how was the date??
Comment by Village Vegan — April 17, 2007 @ 11:22 pm
Yaxlich feels a little bit envious. The only Ritz he could afford to treat petite with is stacked in the savouries section of his local Costcutter.
Comment by Yaxlich — April 18, 2007 @ 12:14 am
If anything is going to make me delurk, it’s this post. It’s almost as bad as the Who Shot JR cliffhanger? (Thus revealing my age range.)
Go on–spill.
PS Congrats on your recent lawsuit win.
Comment by dongurigal — April 18, 2007 @ 3:25 am
Passez les orchidées svp, serveur. Petite besoins une démonstration.
Comment by BundyGil — April 18, 2007 @ 3:47 am
Can’t wait to hear how this turns out petite!
Comment by Jules — April 18, 2007 @ 4:40 am
You mean no paparazzi followed you to the hotel? What kind of dump is that place? ;-)
Comment by Dave of the Lake — April 18, 2007 @ 6:50 am
Don’t keep us waiting too long for the next instalment pleeeease.
Comment by sablonneuse — April 18, 2007 @ 7:48 am
I hate blind dates. However, I met my husband that way, but it is always so stressful. I hope the date is paying for those martinis!
Comment by Linda — April 18, 2007 @ 8:03 am
The best thing about the internet is that if you are not careful you will now start to receive photos of people eating blooms for you.
Comment by Daniel — April 18, 2007 @ 9:47 am
yes yes but the date, the date? oooh you are such a tease!
Comment by Susie — April 18, 2007 @ 9:56 am
Hi Petite
I have been following your blog for a couple of years now.
Lately I’ve been following the tadpole posts religiously. I’m pregnant, living in Holland and am wondering how this baby is going to cope with a multi-culti upbringing. Seems like tadpole is doing great.
Good luck with your romantic adventures. I have to admit, I’m hoping you fall back in love with Mr. Frog. But I guess life isn’t that simple….
Suze
Comment by Suze — April 18, 2007 @ 10:08 am
Come on. Give us the next bit. Pretty please.
Comment by Claire — April 18, 2007 @ 10:17 am
ohhhh what happened then????
Comment by aminah — April 18, 2007 @ 10:41 am
sounds exciting, i wish someone would fall in love with me!
Comment by Eliza — April 18, 2007 @ 10:54 am
Did you go out with Trevor? Did he turn up drunk and intelligently belligerent?
Comment by David in London — April 18, 2007 @ 11:16 am
Hope it’s not a “and Mr Frog showed up and sat at the table next to me” story … ;)
Comment by Mardo — April 18, 2007 @ 11:25 am
If he wants to meet you at such a fancy bar he is a) trying to impress you in a very pretentious and shallow manner b( has quite a few bob.
Look forward to hearing about it.
Comment by stressqueen — April 18, 2007 @ 12:08 pm
So THAT’s why we haven’t seen petite for a couple of days. She’s been a-courtin’! Writers block my eye.
Comment by suziboo — April 18, 2007 @ 12:31 pm
Hi Petite,
I have just cracked open my new copy of French Glamour during my lunchbreak and found a massive 4 page article about you! You look great, but you might want to kick some editorial ass as they have called you Camille on all the photos!
Comment by Vicki in Nice — April 18, 2007 @ 12:48 pm
Now if she’d have been a really well trained waitress, she would have made you feel more comfortable, by telling you that she was giving you some complimentary water for “while you look at the menu”. I mean – there’s no need to be snotty really is there?!!
Comment by Sally Lomax — April 18, 2007 @ 1:40 pm
Twenty Euro for a cocktail! You so need to come to Australia… many of my favourite cocktail bars sell cocktails at between ten and twenty Aussie Dollars, and then they usually have a happy hour where you get two-for-one cocktails!
Love your journal, and thrilled that you got the right result!
Comment by Super — April 18, 2007 @ 2:20 pm
(Whistles) 23 euros for a cocktail…
…I think I’d be longing for a two euro beer too!
Comment by Sparkle — April 18, 2007 @ 2:42 pm
AAAARGH! Come OOOON! What happened next? Your blog is one of the few things that makes my life in Frogland bearable, how could you leave us hanging on like this? Tell, tell tell!!!!
And, by the way, I’m so pleased you won round one of the lawsuit. The most satisfying bit about it is, in attempting to stitch you up for bringing the name of the company into “disrepute” even though you never identified them, they’ve now made it possible for anyone with internet access to know exactly who they are. Idiots! Well done you, can’t wait for the book to come out, I hope you sell loads of copies and make loads of money as an even bigger f**k you to your petty ex-employers (don’t mind if you have to take that bit out, but I had to say it!)
All the best!
Nix
Comment by Nix — April 18, 2007 @ 2:53 pm
Hey petite anglaise!
I’m eager to know the continuation of your “blind date”!!.. Whose helmet was it??! What happened later..?? Come on, plz!! lol
Comment by Patron90 — April 18, 2007 @ 3:24 pm
I can so relate to the terrors that are the Ritz. I’ve never felt more in a fishbowl in my life. In the future, if I’m to be the center of attention I wish to be compensated for it.
I was in great company, I suppose that was my compensation.
What about you?
Comment by Tammi — April 18, 2007 @ 3:32 pm
My goodness, 23€ a drink! You can get dinner for that in Toulouse.
I hope that at least your tab will be picked up.
Comment by Lost in France — April 18, 2007 @ 4:04 pm
wonderful set-up. i love the suspense!
delphine
Comment by Delphine — April 18, 2007 @ 4:07 pm
gaudy + Hermes = not something you generally hear people say. But I don’t disagree. Couture has never been my thing (though I did see a great little red dress in a window at Armani one day).
And I know what you mean about what happens when you write at home and rarely get out. It’s a gorgeous day and I’m stuck inside here in the south 15ème in shorts and a t-shirt, blogging when I should be working and wishing I had a date to look forward to myself (since my recent fling with an Aussie fizzled out; tant pis!) And at least it was a blind date with extra ambiance; he didn’t take you to McDo’s!
Comment by The Bold Soul — April 18, 2007 @ 4:11 pm
So beautifully written! Your prose always sparkles most when you write about the search for love.
Comment by shelley — April 18, 2007 @ 7:01 pm
I was getting ready to read more!
I hear tulips are very tasty.
Comment by Jean-Luc Picard — April 18, 2007 @ 7:54 pm
Outing your favorite dive bar? Very dangerous…
And Rhino: stop leaving comments and get to work on your video!
Comment by Meg — April 18, 2007 @ 8:06 pm
And then…….?????
WHAT NEXT DAMN IT!
Comment by Yellow — April 18, 2007 @ 8:38 pm
Huh? Why ruin good water with cucumber? The Germans would never do that. Never. Ever.
Ist nicht zu praktisch!
Comment by Jelly — April 18, 2007 @ 8:42 pm
On Hallett’s Mountain a glass of water with something green in it usually turns out to be a frog in the inlet pipe again.
Nice hook.
Comment by meredic — April 18, 2007 @ 9:51 pm
Petite has told us in this post how the date went …. and methinks it was not good. Am I right?
Comment by Victoria — April 19, 2007 @ 12:15 am
Oh the suspense is killing me!!!
In anticipation of more delicious surprises,
floral ones perhaps…
Comment by the domestic minx — April 19, 2007 @ 1:20 am
J’aime bien ton recit de la soirée, j’ai un peu de regret. C’est con que la chimie n’a pas marché. Je n’aime pas la chimie.
Comment by nicolas — April 19, 2007 @ 3:58 am
DYING to know how your date went ….
Comment by dilafa — April 19, 2007 @ 9:16 am
hrmmmm…interessant…tres interessant! Tell us moooore!
Comment by Princesse Ecossaise — April 19, 2007 @ 11:00 am
So come on then……………
And then he arrived…………………………….
and……………………………
Comment by Sally Lomax — April 19, 2007 @ 12:22 pm
Is it Nicolas at #46??????
Comment by Sally Lomax — April 19, 2007 @ 12:26 pm
So, does the blind date know you blog? I know it may seem that everyone knows about the blog, but some people are oblivious to blogs.
Comment by Elle — April 19, 2007 @ 12:29 pm
Oh I can’t believe that I hadn’t gathered enough courage to invite you for a drink the last time I was in Paris…
I too am smitten with you even before I have met you…
So, tell all has this brave gentleman managed to impress you ?
OMID
Comment by our_man_in_dubai — April 19, 2007 @ 12:56 pm
Hi petite anglaise,
I recently discovered your blog as a result of an artile on you in The Sunday Times and I have to say that I am hooked. I have most of your archives read and find your stories fascinating. I have to say I check your blog on a daily basis and if there is no post I get a little sad! However, I know you are busy with your book but absolutely dying to hear about the blind date. Hope he was not too prententious as to suggest such a venue for a first date would lead me to believe that he would be.
Comment by Maria — April 19, 2007 @ 1:15 pm
i’m with dave of the lake:
what, no paparazzi??
Comment by franko — April 19, 2007 @ 2:33 pm
wow i love your blog. I am with Sally, is it Nicolas?
Comment by Bruce — April 19, 2007 @ 2:58 pm
So how does it end- Don’t tell me- your blind date booked a table for one by mistake and then tried to get an extra person on the table but the restaurant would have none of it and so he phoned you on your mobile to break the news that you would be dining alone.
Comment by George — April 19, 2007 @ 2:59 pm
Ah the Ritz! Then after a few cocktails it was into the chauffer-driven Mercedes, avoiding the paparazzi on motorbikes, speeding up the rue de Rivoli and into the underpass on the way to the lovenest behind Trocadero…..
Comment by parkin pig — April 19, 2007 @ 3:36 pm
“J’aime bien ton recit de la soirée, j’ai un peu de regret. C’est con que la chimie n’a pas marché. Je n’aime pas la chimie.”
Sounds like somebody else on this post knows more about what went on than we do ! Nicolas sounds more than a little disappointed with the result of the evening. Come on PA – give us the rest of the story now !!
Comment by James — April 19, 2007 @ 3:40 pm
And what if the first thing the mystery date said to me was “now, you can’t write about this evening on that blog of yours.”
Comment by petite — April 19, 2007 @ 5:40 pm
If that was the case, he appears to be out of luck!
Comment by Tammi — April 19, 2007 @ 6:36 pm
“And what if the first thing the mystery date said to me was “now, you can’t write about this evening on that blog of yours.””
Then he’s just mean!!
Comment by Princesse Ecossaise — April 19, 2007 @ 6:49 pm
Then we’ll just have to ask Nicolas himself.
Comment by Claire — April 19, 2007 @ 7:17 pm
Petite hasn’t actually written about the date itself, just up to a few seconds before it started. So we’ll probably never know what went on.
Comment by Pierre L — April 19, 2007 @ 8:43 pm
For my cup of tea (sorry), that bar is completely overrated. Been there, done that. Once. Tasteless appetizers, small pours, huge tab.
But I never saw “no” Petite Anglaise in there?
For that price, as Aerial says, Regina on Pyramides is better. Or go reaaaaly snooty at Crillon or George V. Those a very good fishbowls too! If the doorman at Crillon will even let your Hermes scarf in the door. Pass.
Where was I?
If it went well, Petite, and he wants to splurge again, perhaps suggest my favourite ressy La Terrasse (M Ecole Militaire) or the smoke free Yugaraj on Dauphine.
But then, you say you’re not “comfortable” outside Belleville?
Pity.
Comment by Chez Rosbif — April 20, 2007 @ 12:00 am
Perhaps you can’t write about the date itself, but you could write about how it felt the moment it was over. Whether you were floating on air, for instance. Or not.
Comment by Peg — April 20, 2007 @ 12:36 am
And what if you could write everything that happens to you, would you afford it.
What if, over book/blog, you could have something of your own that couldn’t be written, how would you deal with it.
What if.
Strange line…
Comment by Mardo — April 20, 2007 @ 1:17 am
Heavens, people, don’t you get it? Look up the word “cliffhanger” in the dictionary. She wants you to come back for the next installment, so she leaves you dangling and salivating. It’s a technique (not exactly new–think Scheherazade, think Charles Dickens) to drum up an audience.
Comment by Passante — April 20, 2007 @ 4:55 am
“And what if the first thing the mystery date said to me was “now, you can’t write about this evening on that blog of yours.””
Then quite a lot of people are going to think you a tease..
Comment by bonkers — April 20, 2007 @ 5:15 am
Oh gosh…now I’m left wondering. I do love a mystery myself, but do put us out of our misery soon. How lovely that they serve water that way. Now I want to go to a restaurant/bar that does that too!
Comment by Marie — April 20, 2007 @ 6:50 am
AAaah tu m’etonnes!!! toujours quand j’suis dans un cafe, je pensais que je dois payer chaque fois ils me donnent une verre de l’eau. !!!
Alors alors? continue l’histoire!!
Comment by Popo en malaisie — April 20, 2007 @ 8:03 am
Oh yeah, Aux Folies looks much more like it! You suggest the location next time lady! Your local French cafés…they’re where it’s at…mine are like my second homes.
Comment by kate — April 20, 2007 @ 9:33 am
Thank God you were’t in Venice. My husband and I went to Harry’s Bar for a famed Bellini. What a shit hole. I felt as though I had sucker written on my head. We were crammed in, payed an extortianate amount for a ‘famous’ drink that was produced almost as though on a factory line. Romantic – my arse.
Comment by Welsh Cake — April 20, 2007 @ 10:40 am
Dear Catherine,
Do you mind sending me the decision of the case at the labour tribunal. I wrote to you a few months back telling you about our organisation, the Open Democracy Advice Centre which monitors free speech and whistleblowing in the workplace. We have worked with Public Concern at Work in the U.K.
Thanking you
Lorraine Martin
South Africa
lorraine@opendmeocracy.org.za
Comment by Lorraine Martin — April 20, 2007 @ 10:48 am
I, too, just read the piece on your in French Glamour, like Vicki in Nice (#28 above), and I’m floored that they could mistake your name like that on every photo! Sometimes I wonder how national magazines, read by so many, can make such blatant editorial mistakes. I don’t know a thing about the business, but it just seems like such a csreless oversight…
In any case, I agree with Vicki on the photos — you look FAB! Very flattering shots. I had a feeling when I saw the title of the piece on the cover that you might be inside… Ironically enough, I actually saw the pic of Elisabeth from La Coquette first, in the piece on “being in love,” before hitting your article further on in the issue.
Comment by Alice — April 20, 2007 @ 11:09 am
OOPS, looks like I was careless in my comment, too. Should have double-checked my typos first! Oh well.
I’m waiting here with baited breath, along with everyone else…
Comment by Alice — April 20, 2007 @ 11:11 am
I hope it wasn’t like my last blind date, too dreadful to talk about. Suffice to say that he took his champagne home with him.
You can buy two dinners for 23 Euros where I live.
Comment by maureen mitchell — April 20, 2007 @ 11:28 am
It’s like a blind item. Clue = “at one table there is an unattended coat and motorcycle helmet “, so blind date is a Parisian vespa/mobilette user, so which one is it?
a) Arnaud Klarsfeld,
b) Edouard Baer,
c) Mr. Frog,
d) Matthieu Kassovitz
Comment by Gucci Bitch — April 20, 2007 @ 11:30 am
Good choice of bar by the blind date, assuming of course he as heard of Hemingway. And I’m not surprised Fitzgerald ate the orchids considering the price of anything there, except the free water of course. Can’t wait to hear what happened next.
http://www.helenafrithpowell.com
Comment by Helena Frith Powell — April 20, 2007 @ 11:41 am
But do you love him, Petite?
Do you love him heaps?
Comment by Trevor — April 20, 2007 @ 11:59 am
Je crois que le tableau se complète. Puisque tu ne le peux pas le bloguer toi-même, nous on va le completer. Tu as eue rendez-vous avec Nicolas, la chimie elle n’a pas marché, et il t’interdit d’en publier l’histoire. Tes lecteurs/-euses si curieux n’ont qu’à apprendre le français ou obtenir une traduction, et ils le sauront sans que tu aies trahi ta promesse. Et Nicolas lui il est en part responsable, alors il n’y aura pas question d'(encore de) prud’hommes.
Comment by Penny in Amsterdam — April 20, 2007 @ 1:02 pm
Hussying around the town again! ;-) x
Comment by fjl — April 20, 2007 @ 3:23 pm
Gucci Bitch – Hmm. If Hugh Laurie is not available, then I suppose I could make do with Edouard Baer.
Comment by petite — April 20, 2007 @ 4:03 pm
I can’t believe you’re going to make us wait till Monday!!! ( I only do my petite reading at work. ha,the irony)
Comment by Susie — April 20, 2007 @ 4:23 pm
p.s. I remember you asking advice about laptops a while back (or was it pc’s?). I’m in the market and wondered which one you got in the end and what you think of it?
Comment by Susie — April 20, 2007 @ 4:28 pm
I got a black iMac. It is warming my lap right this second.
And I love it.
Comment by petite — April 20, 2007 @ 4:48 pm
I just come back from your country and am very glad to see that you’re back in the blogosphere.
Thank you.
Comment by marie-hélène — April 20, 2007 @ 4:52 pm
“What if he’d made it a condition of the meeting that I don’t discuss it on my blog?”
What if Tadpole and Mr Frog made the same request?
What if all your relatives and friends joined in and agreed with that sentiment?
What if there were no blogs?
Would we all fill our time doing more constructive things?
What if life is an illusion?
Will we ever know the meaning of it?
Answers on a postcard, please.
Comment by Sue — April 20, 2007 @ 4:56 pm
The thing that I love about this entry is that your description of the Ritz and the wonderful Fitzgerald story is that I’m filled with the same sense of anticipation and (attempted) glamour I would try to pull off when I dabbled my toes in the dating world. Of course, the dates were never as fascinating as my imagination anticipated but still.
I must make the boyfriend eat flowers for me. One day…
Comment by ambika — April 20, 2007 @ 6:24 pm
No,no Gucci Bitch. Was M.literature himself Frédéric Beigdeber. He scooted off for a night leaving little Miss Hallydette solo for the soir.
Comment by Lionel — April 20, 2007 @ 8:05 pm
you bought a mac, hooray! i’m glad to hear that you love it, since i was in the pro-mac camp when you asked for advice.
Comment by franko — April 20, 2007 @ 9:01 pm
I was very saddened to come across an article on the Times’ website concerning your recent sacking. I find it frightening that people read your blog and that Penguin were immoral enough to offer you money. The right thing would clearly have been for you to leave quietly and be silently ashamed of yourself for wasting office time on a chat website. You have promoted laziness in the work place and encouraged others to speak illy of their employers.
Comment by Lucy — April 21, 2007 @ 12:52 am
Hugh Laurie (swoon!)
Comment by happyforyou — April 21, 2007 @ 9:23 am
Blind dates can provide such a buzz, hope your’s was fun. My most epic one which saw me travel from Blackpool to Orlando!..pure madness, but what a story!
Comment by Tony — April 21, 2007 @ 10:09 am
Here, Here Lucy!
Comment by Trevor — April 21, 2007 @ 8:10 pm
ha! is #91 for real? hee hee, a “chat website!” it’s too funny.
Comment by Molly — April 21, 2007 @ 9:34 pm
What do you have to do to speak “illy” (#91)?
Is that a dialect of French?
Comment by Claire — April 21, 2007 @ 9:43 pm
Did he pay the bill :-) ?
Comment by Eric — April 22, 2007 @ 1:00 am
I’ve only been on one blind date in my life (and I’m not a kid anymore)–believe me, that was ENOUGH!!!! Don’t ask; I’m saving it for my own book.
Comment by linda from jersey (that's new jersey USA) — April 22, 2007 @ 4:02 am
Hi Petite Anglaise, I am single mum with a 3 years old boy, we both just moved to Paris. I have been reading you for a while (even before knowing I would come back to Paris !) and followed your famous and hectic issues in your professional life in the media. Maybe you can help me : I am looking for kids shows in English in Paris. I guess you are taking out Tadpole, so maybe you know places where my son and I can meet English-speaking people and see some English shows. He speaks English and we both miss a lot not talking in English around here.
Hope to hear you from you. Thanks.
Comment by Peggy — April 22, 2007 @ 1:24 pm
i agree with all the comments..TELL MORE..
except Lucy no 91. she is stupid… Really…..maybe she is reading your blog at work and being lazy…. come on get real…probably has not even followed the whole story, but has to put her 5p down.
tell, tell, tell, tell, please…………
Comment by suzanne — April 22, 2007 @ 2:30 pm
My mom once tried to show me the Hemingway Bar at the Ritz. We couldn’t get past the doorman. I have no memory of what we were wearing, but we’re generally not slovenly.
Comment by clarissa — April 22, 2007 @ 6:19 pm
Oh petite, finish the story soon! I went out on friday night and a man offered to buy me cocktails all night if i promised to dance with him. NOting the age of the man (60ish) and the size of his paunch (lge) and the quality of cocktails available at the divey clubs where i live, i felt it only safe to decline.
Maybe I should live a bit more dangerously!! Hope you at least got a nice cocktail and the nibbles were tasty….
Comment by Catkin — April 22, 2007 @ 9:13 pm
Well he can’t have been that bad otherwise posting details would have been perfect revenge.
Comment by grayarea — April 22, 2007 @ 11:23 pm
Trevor said “Here, Here Lucy!”
Come, come Trevor you eejit, it’s “hear, hear” not “here, here” unless of course you mean there, there but then you should explain where, where!
Comment by parkin pig — April 23, 2007 @ 10:09 am
well claire i think you did just speak illy. cumbersome as it might look it is english and means what it spells. lucy does have a good point and expresses it well without the smarm.
Comment by Alliance Lucy — April 23, 2007 @ 11:42 am
Petite, c’est pas vrai je n’ai pas demander que l’histoire de la soirée ne soit pas sur le blog. J’ai juste demandé que tu me trouves un pseudo.
En fait, c’est toi qui ne veux pas raconter la soirée.
Comment by nicolas — April 23, 2007 @ 12:45 pm
I too was surprised to see you in Glamour, just a month after I saw La Coquette. It did kind of freak me out though that I recognized the two of you straight away without having to read your names, considering the fact that I’ve never met either of you…
Comment by samantha — April 23, 2007 @ 2:10 pm
I am not sure what variety of the English language Alliance Lucy or Lucy claim to be familiar with, but such a word as “illy” certainly does not appear in either the Oxford Dictionary of English nor the Cambridge Advanced Learners Dictionary of English. It is a classic example of how to bastadize (verb, pg.63., Oxford Pocket Dictionary) a language in the most illiterate, ugly and ill-founded way.
Terry Harris, Cambridge, England.
ps I would ask you to disregard the sanctimonious attitude of the two ‘ladybirds’ in question and suggest they get a life!
Comment by Terry Harris — April 23, 2007 @ 3:35 pm
Thierry,
“Beauty is jealous, and illy bears the presence of a rival” (Thomas Jefferson). Source: The American Heritage ® Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition
What an utter fool I must have been, I do apologize.
Comment by Thomas Jefferson — April 23, 2007 @ 5:42 pm
OK. Accept that. However…’illy sounds very old and deserves an archaic label’…The Columbian Guide to AMERICAN English 1993, Columbia University Press. Appropriate, I suggest for our ‘ladybirds’
Comment by Terry Harris — April 24, 2007 @ 7:02 am
Well, the conclusion to that one, girls, must be : never trust a man with bad spelling.
And that goes for Nicolas too.
Comment by Sophie — April 24, 2007 @ 4:46 pm