24 Hours in Paris

Original Edition: Chapter Six

  2 p.m.

Ten minutes into the tour boat ride, Mira was consciously trying not to move. Her right upper arm had been fused onto Jake's burly left arm since the start of the boat ride. For that entire time, the sun had been shining bright, and she now had the distinct feeling that she was sweating. If she dared to move, would her clammy, sweaty arm have a hard time peeling off of his? Nothing about the above sounded the least bit attractive, and on top of all of that she'd left her deodorant in her travelling backpack, which was currently safely stored at the airport. She could only hope that her brand of anti-perspirant lived up to its promise of "twenty-four hour protection."

In the meantime, the boat ride was living up to its humorous potential, as the photo-happy tourists were more ridiculous than she ever could've imagined. She tried her best to focus on that, to get her mind off her sweat-ridden arm.

"Why does that kid have his own digital SLR camera?" Jake said. "He looks like he's eight." He gestured to the kid with the camera that was bigger than his face; he was busy taking endless shots of the river view.

"That's not the crazy part," Mira said. "His parents each have digital SLRs too." She pointed to the kid's parents, who were encouraging him to use his tiny "kid body" to weasel his way to the deck's edge, in order to get the best view of the buildings that lined the Seine River. They then went on to take dozens of pictures of their own, never speaking, never smiling, and never even taking in the view outside the camera's tiny viewing hole.

"So wait," Jake said. "That's like two thousand dollars worth of cameras between one family."

"Even that's not the craziest part," said Mira. "Like what's gonna happen to all these pictures after the trip is over? I bet they'll upload a few thousand pictures onto their computer--most of them redundant since they're all pointing their cameras at the exact same stuff---and which ones will they keep? What if mommy says daddy's pictures are better? Sorry son, find a new hobby."

Jake laughed. "Yeah that kid doesn't look like he can take negative feedback. I mean he's swaggering and he's wearing a backwards hat; I was that kid."

Mira imagined Jake as an eight-year-old who thought he was the best of the best; somehow the image wasn't all that different from what she was seeing today. She smiled but kept the comment to her herself, as there was no need to ridicule Jake when they had so many other easy targets.

"Have you noticed that couple?" Mira said. A stern-looking man in his forties aimed his camera at his equally stern wife. "Every time he takes her picture she sticks her thumb into her front jeans pocket."

"She just did it again!" Jake exclaimed.

"It's like her face is saying she's all business, but her thumb in the jeans pocket conveys she's cool, casual, and likes to have fun."

"That description reminds me of a mullet hairstyle," Jake said. "Business in the front, party in the back, woo-hoo!" He was clearly still a little drunk.

"Yes," said Mira calmly. "Her face and thumb are the equivalent of a mullet; it's a body mullet."

Jake burst into laughter. "I can't tell if you're really funny or if I'm getting dehydrated."

Mira couldn't help but join in the laughter. "Let's just say it's fifty-fifty." All this distracting conversation had made it very clear that Jake was a lot of fun to talk to, and it wasn't just because of the wine. She realized then that there was absolutely nothing wrong with the rest of this day playing out in the "friend zone" way, and maybe she'd even prefer it that way.