Alone...in Paris

“ Bonjour, Madame! Vous etes seul?”

The man’s words alarm me. He’s saying, “Hello, are you alone?”
How does he know? As I stand on the steps of the terrace, the comments of my friends begin to haunt me…

“You’re going to Paris alone? You’re so brave!”
“Aren’t you afraid to be in a foreign country by yourself?”
“You don’t speak French? I’d be nervous about that if I were you.”
Yes, I am nervous! In my anxiety I completely overlook the menu the man is holding, as well as the neatly folded white towel draped over the arm of his crisp white shirt. My mind continues to race as he looks at me expectantly. I wonder if he’s going to mug me. Is he one of the pickpockets I’ve been warned about? Then, quietly and calmly, reason prevails. Relax, Evelyn…he’s the maitre’d. He needs to know if you’re by yourself so he can seat you. I exhale slowly, almost unaware that I’d been holding my breath.

“Oui, Monsieur,” I tell him. “Je suis seul.” Yes sir, I’m alone.

He leads me to a tiny table overlooking the famous I.M. Pei glass pyramid in the courtyard of the Louvre. It’s a warm September afternoon, perfect for dining on the terrace of the trendy Café Marly. Pulling the table toward me, he murmurs, “Voila, Madame.”

I squeeze by the couple seated to the right and slide into the leather banquette.

“Merci, Monsieur.”

I breathe a sigh of relief and try to focus on the menu he’s handed me. All my reading has prepared me for this moment. My Rick Steves’ guidebook has cautioned me about tripe and andouillette, and my Pimsleur language tapes have provided me with enough rudimentary French to request a glass of red or white wine. I order an omelet with herbes de provence, a yummy tomato and chevre gateaux (a cake of soft, creamy goat cheese layered with tomato coulis, topped with a sliced tomato and drizzled with olive oil), and glass of rosé. I sit in the sun, watching swarms of people enter and depart through that spectacular glass structure in the square.

"Oh my God,” I think to myself. “I’m in Paris, one of the most exhilarating cities in the world, sitting in the Richelieu wing of a palace, home of French kings, quarters for Napoleon, and a monument to some of the world’s most famous art."

Yes, I was in Paris….alone