In Search of Amis

Always trying to make me more comfortable, on Friday V introduced me to the chic and statuesque Fiona, who works in her office and is about my age. She hoped we could be friends. Perhaps it was my fault and I was too intimidated by her Parisian je ne sais quoi, but we didn't really click. Fiona looks like a model, with that intangible air of "Oh, I didn't even look in the mirror this morning, I just happen to look perfect." She really did seem quite friendly, and offered to meet me on New Years Eve, warning me, with expressions of distaste, against exactly the cheap options I had been considering, like going to Montmartre to watch the fireworks. 

"Fiona's very posh,"V said. I looked down at my rubber boots and bare fingernails. Um, considering my Hemingway budget, I just don't think Fiona and I would be attracted to the same atmospheres. 

Luckily, I had other options in the works. I had joined the Au Pair in Paris group on Facebook, and there met Eloise. Eloise told me she had plans to go out that night with some friends and invited me along. I accepted with alacrity. 

"Meet us at Grands Boulevards," she texted. I searched it on Google maps, found a bus route, and set off. Upon reaching the bus stop, I realized that I had completely forgotten the bus number. Was this even the right stop? I think so, it has to be. I studied the map. I didn't see Grands Boulevards listed on the stops, but it looks like it's nearby. What if it's not? Maybe I should just go home, and tell Eloise I'll see her later...

A bus arrived. I got on.

I began to get increasingly nervous as nothing on the route map posted on the wall of the bus matched what was on the map in my hands. Oh God. Wrong bus. I got off at Gare St. Lazare. This was wrong. So, so wrong. The street I found myself on was dark and relatively lifeless. I looked at the map in my hands again. What I wouldn't give for the internet! This map didn't reach Gare St. Lazare. I had no idea where I was. Well, I had to get home somehow. I started walking in the opposite direction that the bus was going. This seemed like a good start. I got another text from Eloise.

"We're at James Hetfeeld bar. Please come! Line 8 :)"

How could I say no to a smiley face? To a "please come"? Friends! So close to friends! With a renewed sense of purpose I strode towards what looked like civilization. In search of a Metro...