Let's go shopping!
It's hard to write it down because I'd rather keep this event secret but, hey, you guys love my site and I love my readers, so… Er… I am a bit embarrassed but, er… well…I just need to tell you… Melisso and I… er… how should I say?... We… well, we… We, we, we… we did it!

We went shopping together!... Yes, I know!... I feel great and I hope that so does she… It was our first time together, yes, I was so nervous and so excited at the same time… But I mean it was huge! This girl is a killer!

But let's get back to the beginning of this story. Picture it: Paris, last Saturday, 8AM…


It had already been hours since Melisso got up. When I opened my eyes, she was busy watching the news on TV. LCI of course. A bet with her close friend Christine: the one announcing the Pope's death first will earn a free lunch from the other one. Christine was almost done and about to not win the bet (at least for the day), yet some silly breaking news could still happen and ruin Melisso's day. She was therefore feverishly praying for the old man to make it til Sunday.

Since Melisso had been up for several hours, I felt guilty and decided to get my bones up and have breakfast. As I was walking down the corridor to the kitchen, Melisso started to yell something in French. Something close to 'Perdu, Titine, il tient le coup, le viok, lundi, tu vas te payer tes petits sushis en solo!' I think she was truly happy for the Pope. She is so pious. So perfect.

Anyway, I was starting to think that this day could be great when she joined me in the kitchen, took a bite of my raspberry jam toast and said:
'We have nothing to do today…
'Yes… so?, I answered, afraid of what she had in mind'
'Why not go shopping? I have got no clothes, she said'
'No clothes, I shouted. But you change shirts everyday. They always send you fancy, weird… things to wear in front of the video camera. Are you kidding me?'
'But sweetheart, these are all shirts, T-shirts or jumpers. And I only have one old pair of trousers. 2847 shirts and 3 skirts! Do you think it's fair? It's unfair, I deserve more skirts!'
'What 're you talking about, I replied. I have no skirt at all. Do I complain?... Oh please, don't make me go to Galeries Lafayette on Saturday. Please don't do that, please, I am begging you!...Please… pleaaaaase…'



The next thing I knew, I was asking a saleswoman for the other size of the thirty-seventh dress Melisso was trying on this very day:
'The young lady doesn't fit in the other one?, the witch asked'
'No, she doesn't. See, my girlfriend eats. She does not just drink 2 gallons of tea each and every morning like you, you skinny dried old beast. She doesn't need people to see her bones to feel great. In fact, she's too slim. She's, she's, she's even planning to put on weight a little bit, if you need to know. She's… Melissooooo…
'Yes, baby, what is it?'
'Melisso, get dressed, honey bunny, we're going to the Printemps, where they respect their customers… Damn it, it's so warm in here! You guys have stocks in Exxon, or what?'

The rest of the day was just a long, long, looooong remake of the Julia Roberts' scene in Pretty Woman… Except that my girlfriend is definitely more gorgeous. And I am much more handsome than Ri… well, she is in love with me -not Richard- anyway, so I don't give a damn which one is cuter between grey-haired Richard Gere and young-and-delicious me. Leave me alone, for God's sake!

Anyway, Melisso managed to wipe out each and every Euro we still had on our account when she finally found the, I mean, 'DA' shirt of her dreams… Yes, you read well. She bought a shirt, the lil' brat. An expensive shirt. The kind of shirt she had in each and every possible color except dark blue. Too bad for me, Printemps did have it in dark blue silk. And Printemps plus silk means dollars, believe me! But she made me her smile so I just smiled back and said:
'It's also your money, Mel, so… I mean if you like it… I mean, just go ahead, I'd be happy for you!... Of course, I am sure, baby… I know we're saving money to buy a house and make kids and stuff but, hey, it's not a reason to just deprive ourselves of everything… Oh nooo, no, no, go ahead, sugar, I swear I'd be so happy for you!'

I hate myself when I just melt like snow in front of her smile! Too bad for me, I am a darn good liar. So she just smiled back and handed out our Mastercard to the equally-smiling saleswoman. Poor Mastercard! 2 thousand euros for a friggin' piece of lame fabric!
We bought it. And then she went :
'This was just an extra… let's get back to our real quest for the skirt, my love'.

"Just an extra", two thousand… wait a second, didn't she just… You heard it too, right?... Oh my God, did she just use the L-word referring to me? Somebody pinch me, please. Quick. Quiiick! Can I just joy-collapse or…? Did the funny beautiful lady I happen to get out with for some still incomprehensible reason just call me 'my love'?

Oh boy! Hearing this was priceless (unfortunately, you can always count on bloody Mastercard to debit your account for everything else)

It was 6 o'clock (PM of course!). We were still hunting for the precious skirt  and walking through the men's store. And while I was looking for the easiest way back to the Vuitton Women's booth, Melisso just killed me with her soft and ingenuous kindness.
'Why don't you buy yourself a pair of shoes, Laurent? Let me help you pick'em.'

This sentence was so sweet, so kind, so unexpected I almost felt bad for my inner selfishness from a few minutes ago. She was just disarming.
'Do I deserve so much? I asked myself'
'Are you sure? I said, hesitating'
'Of course, I am sure. You're my fiancé, you deserve the best!'
'I already have the best, I answered victoriously'
'Ooooh! How sweet! My fiancé is so sweeeeeet'

I know, I know… Her fiancé is so sweet… We couldn't find the skirt. Nor the trousers. But the bottom line is we did buy a nice silk shirt for her and a fine pair of leather shoes for me. Let me tell you this shopping session together was so cool. So cool.

So much that I am kind of wondering myself: did I enjoy shopping as such? Or did I enjoy shopping with her? 'Cause frankly, I hate shopping usually! Therefore this wider question: isn't enjoying shopping with your bird the ultimate proof that a man is truly in love? I, I, I… again, I don't know. I just ask a question that I assume is really worth asking… And therefore am I in love with her?... Even though she made me go to Galeries Lafayette AND Printemps on Saturday morning AND afternoon...

Anyway, next Saturday, we're going to Le Bon Marché. I need a hat and she still needs a skirt. Hopefully we'll end up coming back with a scarf for her and gloves for me.


See you in the aisle, people!