Armed with the chat up line “Ici pour bonnes temps, pas longtemps” I took to French Tinder on my first trip to Paris in February. For those of you who don’t speak French, that says “Here for a good time, not a long time”. It is a line inspired by the Canadian who I thought I was exclusive with until my pal found him on Tinder with this very smooth line. Anyway, bad “ex’s” aside, it got me a superlike. Nice. This Superliker, Pierre, spent the next 2 months chatting me up via facebook, apparently desperate for me to come back to Paris so we could meet. Well, his wishes were answered because I love Paris and I LOVE my best friend Céline who is studying for her Masters there.
In the midst of a wild Parisian weekend, the date was planned. I pleaded with Céline to come with me. Being a complete babe, she agreed, but only after we had created an entire coding system to cover every possible blind date secret discussion necessary.
Words, mainly related to irregular food, that we needed to bring into conversation to express our feelings:
She took me to a very trendy new wine bar right by the Seine, we started with a glass, people watching everyone that went past and trying to guess which one was Pierre. We moved onto a bottle, still no Pierre.
Well, it turns out that Tinder in Paris is exactly the same as Tinder in England. Full of no-shows, last minute cancellations and disappointments. Not so fun.
But I’ll tell you what is fun: Sitting in a wine bar with your bestie, on a Sunday night so quiet that the bartenders have time to chat you up, and continue filling your wine glasses even after you told them you’re fresh out of Euros. And I’ll tell you whats even more fun: when the bartender who’s pulled up a chair at your table brings over the BEAUTIFUL – and I mean heart-stoppingly beautiful – twenty-four year old bar-owner, Etienne, accompanied by a tray of limoncello shots, and tells you not to catch the last Metro home, because they will look after you. And I’ll tell you whats even more fun than that: when they close the bar to everyone else, but keep you in there dancing to French hip-hop and trying every type of chic organic wine going. It was even worth smacking the back of my head, hard, on a stone wall whilst dancing the Tango with Etienne.
So the moral of the story, ladies: Tinder is nothing but an attempt to mimic real life interactions which are so much more satisfying and enjoyable when they are as natural and organic as the wine at this bar.
And another moral which we can all take home from Paris: French men are on average 250% more attractive than British men, if you like the tall, dark and handsome ones, that is. So book your spot on the eurostar ladies, I promise you won’t be dissapointed.
Finally, I leave you with the legacy of my tried and tested French chat-up lines, straight from my vocab book itself: