A really nice thing happened to me tonight.
I was late as usual, rushing through the early evening Parisian crowds, on my way for drinks with some girlfriends when an extremely courageous (I say courageous because his actions did take a whole lot of guts) and nice looking young man stopped me right in the middle of the road. He looked at me, smiled, and said that he just wanted me to know that I was really beautiful!
Just like that. Out of nowhere.
Yeah, yeah, I know, it’s so shallow of me to be all overjoyed just because someone told me that I look good. I should be aiming for deeper and more meaningful compliments like how intelligent and witty I am. But hey, I’m not getting any younger. We take what we can get…when we can get it.
Where was I? Oh yeah, so I got this great compliment, accepted it gracefully and wished the young man a very good evening. Then I turned around, glanced at my reflection in the shop window and saw my extremely red, shiny and sweaty face, my hair sticking up in all directions, and my crumpled and slightly damp top from all the sweat dripping down my back and under my arms.
He must have forgotten to put his contact lenses in.
Still, it was a lovely thing to do. Thank you very much lovely nice man who made my evening.