(no subject)
I know that the French are much friendlier than the Americans. I know the American sense of personal space is about ten feet in diameter. I'm pretty blasé about hearing "jolie fille!" called out in the streets, and if someone starts to talk to me out of the blue I'm a little surprised, but you know. It's okay. It's a short conversation about something impersonal and most likely pertaining to the situation at hand -- ie is this beef past its expiration date, or does the train run to this stop.
So being stopped randomly while walking across the UPV parking lot is -- well, it hasn't happened before, but I can approach it with an open mind. Even if the man in the car is over twice my age, I can take compliments about my appearance and my French in stride. I'm perfectly fine with being asked where I'm from, since I don't fool myself into thinking that I can pass as a real Frenchwoman should someone talk to me for more than three sentences.
However. When you, strange person I have looked at - not even 'known' - for about twenty seconds, ask to be my friend, I will stare. If you ask my telephone number, I will lie and say I don't have one. If you insist that you would like to know me, and ask if you can meet me Friday or Saturday... I'm sorry, but I will be politely creeped out and leave. It's -- well, it is partially you. But it's also partially me. Yes, I should really try to start up conversations with French people in order to master the language. And yes, this kind of thing probably isn't as weird to French people as I thought it was. But a much older man attempting to arrange a meeting with me ... that pings my warning sensors. Honestly, I half expected him to offer to give me a ride back because the trams were on strike. And I don't really know how to handle it other than run away first chance I get.
... sigh. I can't get young guys in bars to talk to me, but I get older men from the university. Alas.
So being stopped randomly while walking across the UPV parking lot is -- well, it hasn't happened before, but I can approach it with an open mind. Even if the man in the car is over twice my age, I can take compliments about my appearance and my French in stride. I'm perfectly fine with being asked where I'm from, since I don't fool myself into thinking that I can pass as a real Frenchwoman should someone talk to me for more than three sentences.
However. When you, strange person I have looked at - not even 'known' - for about twenty seconds, ask to be my friend, I will stare. If you ask my telephone number, I will lie and say I don't have one. If you insist that you would like to know me, and ask if you can meet me Friday or Saturday... I'm sorry, but I will be politely creeped out and leave. It's -- well, it is partially you. But it's also partially me. Yes, I should really try to start up conversations with French people in order to master the language. And yes, this kind of thing probably isn't as weird to French people as I thought it was. But a much older man attempting to arrange a meeting with me ... that pings my warning sensors. Honestly, I half expected him to offer to give me a ride back because the trams were on strike. And I don't really know how to handle it other than run away first chance I get.
... sigh. I can't get young guys in bars to talk to me, but I get older men from the university. Alas.