Paris in Six Queer Acts

Scene 1: The Flirting
I am sure you all know this game of lesbian flirting. It’s a dance you have to learn. You don't just look at someone and make her feel like a million dollars. First you have to make eye contact at least three times. (If you are brave and roll your own cigarettes, you can look at her while you lick the paper.) In case both of you have met each other's eyes three times, you are good to go. Perhaps this game is why it sometimes feels like nobody is looking at anybody in a lesbian bar - but the reality is they do.
     This evening Elsa and I were hanging out at BAR LES AIMANT.E.S in Paris talking about lesbian flirting when all of a sudden, a woman comes to our table with a glass of beer and gives it to Elsa. “This is for you, from a lady who doesn’t want to reveal who she is.” With that line she exits. I'm thinking to myself, “are we on tv? Is someone taking the piss or is this in fact a master move?” Now we'll spend the rest of the night wondering who this person is and we might never find out who it was.

Scene 2: The Practical Arrangements
I have never seen a solution like the one Alice B. Toklas chose for her burial. After Gertrude Steins death, she got a gravestone with her name in gold. When her wife, Alice B. Toklas, died many years later, she did not want to take any attention away from Gertrude. She considered her a genius who should shine in her own light. At the same time, Alice wanted to rest next to her. Her solution: she had her name put in gold on the other side of the gravestone. They are both resting side by side in their own bright light at Père Lachaise Cemetery, division 94, in Paris.

Scene 3: The Finding Out
"What's your pronoun?" That was the first time I had ever been asked that question. I was at the bar at Cabaret des Merveilles in Paris. I thought it was obvious and felt a bit weird about having to say "woman," but soon realized it was out of courtesy, not to take anything for granted. When I returned the question, they paused for a moment before answering, "I don't know." We both burst out laughing. The answer seemed as unexpected to them as it was to me. The timing was excellent as if we were in a comedy. It brought something liberating. I felt at home at once.

Scene 4: The Statements
The setting: La Mutinerie in Paris. The man from Iran when asked how come he choose to study in Italy: ”Europe is the last free resort in the world.” When his friend asked him if he had seen this film about a women’s difficult experiences in Iran he replied in a flash. ”I don’t need to see the film. I have lived it.” On top of his list was to visit a lesbian bar and drink as many drinks as he could. Both dreams turned true.

Scene 5: The Confidence
Me to a woman on the Metro: “You have amazing glasses!”
She: “I know!”
Me: “That was the best answer I’ve ever had. Can I quote you?”
She: “Yes,” and revealed a modest smile while she put on headphones and started writing down some notes.

Scene 6: The Man Who Fell in Love
A few meters from a house where Victor Hugo had lived, a man was selling his black and white prints of ballerinas. We started talking about Paris, and all of a sudden, I heard myself saying: “How do you explain that I've only been in Paris for ten days, yet it feels like ten years? It's as if I live here now.”
The man had come to Paris in 1970 as a tourist and decided to stay. Like me, he felt at home straight away. He has never lived in another city since then. "I read an article in National Geographic," he said. "It was about Paris and its magic. I will never forget the quote: ‘You can be alone in Paris, but you are never lonely.’”