Hilarious story: on Friday, I met up with an Italian girl, Erika, and a French girl, Magali, at a cafe on the Champs-Elysees. They were looking for someone to rent their third bedroom, which was being vacated by an English girl who was taking a new job in London. I had visited the apartment that week, and although it was a bit further from the center of Paris, it was beautiful and in a safe location, right near the metro. I thought that living with two foreign girls my age would possibly expand my circle of friends and lend even more international flavor to my exchange.
By the time I arrived at the cafe, it was bustling, loud, and crowded, and Magali and Erika had already been seated. Since neither party knew what the other looked like, we were frantically texting each other our respective locations in an attempt to reunite - without success. Finally, I frustratedly wrote: "Blonde hair. Purple scarf. Near the bar in the center," hoping they would spot me and usher me to their table. Several minutes passed, with no response. Finally, I walked over to the other side of the cafe and spotted two girls trying to muffle hysterical, escaping laughter. "Magali? Erika? It's Suzanne. What happened?" I questioned, hoping I was right this time (to avoid scaring the wrong people away.) "OH MY GOD," they laughed, and I waited as they attempted to compose themselves. "We thought you were *her,*" they said, pointing. Immediately to their right was an obese drag queen, ostentatiously made-up with false eyelashes, platforms, and fishnets. And what was she wearing, but a platinum-blonde wig and a purple feather boa. "We were never going to use Craiglist to find a roommate again!" They had been plotting ways to gracefully escape.
It warms the cockels of my heart to hear you describe yourself as a blonde :)
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