Vagabond

Trois

              "My favorite thing is to go where I've never been." -Diane Arbus

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                                                3 Hours Later

        “Do you want to go grab some dinner with me?”  her roommate, Eleanor,  asked.

       “Sure,” Ingrid replied, setting aside the clothes she had been putting away. Their group had just arrived at the “apartment-style” building they would be staying at. To get the most out of her experience, she chosen to be  paired with a  French roommate, who was also studying at the same university. All the roommates knew how to speak English,  which was very helpful. On the flip side, Ingrid hoped she would learn some French phrases and words-it was all part of her idea of embracing a new culture. “Where are we going to eat?” she prompted, furiously searching for her Kate Spade wallet in her messy purse.  

        “It’s a little…” she trailed off. “What is the word?” she  wondered aloud. In search of a legitimate answer, she whipped out a translating app on her phone. “Upscale?” she guessed, looking at Ingrid for approval.

       Ingrid nodded in agreement. “You mean somewhere a little bit fancier than the typical cafe?” she reasoned.

        “Yes!” Eleanor beamed, clearly thrilled that she had understood her.

     “You don’t have to take me somewhere like that,” Ingrid insisted. She didn’t want to be any trouble. Eating at a sidewalk cafe wouldn’t have bothered her at all.

        Eleanor waved her off. “No, no. Don’t worry. We will eat at plenty of those places later. Tonight is your first night in France; it must be extra special. Everyone from your college group is going, anyway.”

        “Guess I can’t argue with that,” Ingrid laughed.

        “I think you will like this place very much.  Il est comme un reve.”

     This left Ingrid with a very lost expression on her face. “What does that mean?” she finally inquired.

        “It means ‘It is like a dream’,” she translated.

        In that case, it only meant one thing to Ingrid. They were going to the Eiffel Tower and she didn’t mind at all.

                                         *          *          *

        I can’t believe I’m actually here, Ingrid thought to herself as the throng of college students walked and gazed up at the Eiffel Tower. It was almost seven o’clock at night, and the sun was setting, casting a bright burnt orange shade in the sky.

        “Isn’t this amazing?” Jake asked, as if reading her thoughts.

      “Spectacular,” Ingrid admired the thousands of bright lights that each glowed like diamonds in the night. “And this is only the outside. Just imagine what the food will taste like inside,” she added.

        “I heard the dinner cost at least seventy euros per person,” Jake speculated.

       “Seventy euros?” Ingrid turned her head from the gleaming structure and stared at Jake.

       “That’s what people were saying,” he shrugged.

        Well, seventy euros was expensive. It was equivalent to about ninety six American dollars. They were really getting a once-in-a-lifetime experience.