We Will Always Have Paris

It was night, and the stars shone brilliantly over the Paris skyline. The rain that had ended the concert earlier than expected was gone now but it made the slick streets sparkle, almost as if I was walking on another Milky Way.

The Paris night air smelled of roses, rain and...weed?

I looked around for the source, not because I wanted a hit, but because I was thinking that the puff of smoke from a joint would look good against the wet streets in a photo. Because that's what I do late at night while everyone else is sleeping or partying, I'm in some obscure location taking pictures and hoping to earn a couple bucks.

I lead a wild life.

I turned around and moved towards my left where there was a cross walk and a man smoking a joint. This man was giant, maybe a foot taller than me (and I'm not a shorty, I'm 5'5") and his black hair was short on the sides but long on the top. I knew him instantly.

I took a step towards him, and heard the truck rumbling down the street.

"Monsieur! Attention!" Sir! Watch out! I yelled in French. The man continued to be oblivious.

I ran towards him and pulled him out of the way of the truck. The driver swore at us and swerved around as he drove away, a continual stream of curses spilling from his mouth.

"What the hell?" the man of my dreams shouted at me

"Je suis désolé ... le camion ..." I blurted out, "J'ai pensé que vous alliez faire frapper mais le camion, Gerald"

Gerald looked so confused, "I don't speak French."

"Oh. Ah, um, oh." I was thrown off, I hadn't realized I was still speaking French. I've been spending too much time around here, I decieded. "Sorry. I thought you were going to cross the street and I didn't want you to get hit."

"You know me." His dark brown eyes were confused

"Yes, I do. You're Gerald Gillum. More commonly called G-Eazy"

"Were you at the concert?" He smiled, thin lips pulling across perfectly staight white teeth. "Never mind that. I know you were. I recognize you!"

"You, you recognize me?" My voice trembled excitedly "Really?"

"Really. You waited forever to get to meet me before the show and then it started raining and there was the worry about lightning striking the equipment so we had to end it early. And you never got to meet me."

"Yes, that was me!"

"So you followed me after the show, and waited for the right oppurtunity to meet me." His smile was no longer friendly, it was a smirk and his voice had become cool and aloof.

"No, it wasn't like that at all..." I stammer

"Yes it was, Frenchie. Lucky for you I like foreign girls!" Frenchie? What the heck?

"I just saved your life monsieur!"

"I expect you want me to thank you for that too, huh? Oh its just a pleasure to meet you; another of my thousands of adoring fans and I can't believe you would save my life too. Am I lucky guy or what?"

"You're starting to be a real jerk thats what!" I snap and I turn around, about to march off, when I see his joint lying on the ground. I bend to pick it up for him. I spin around and offer it to him.

He looks surprised. "I came here because I thought that a weed smoke cloud would look cool against the wet streets and the darkness. I'm a photographer."

"Oh." He simply states, "Well I guess there's not any harm in that. Do you have a lighter?" I dig one out of my sweater pocket and hand it too him. He looked at it thoughtfully. "You know what they say about red lighters." He gives me a wry smile and flicks it open and lights the joint.