French Pervs and Renaissance Faires

Have you ever had something happen that made you wonder "what the heck just happened there?" Last Saturday was the annual Rennaisance Festival in "Old Lyon." It was wonderful to see all the gorgeous costumes, and everyone was speaking French, a European language, so it all seemed a bit more authentic than the ones we have at home. Okay, maybe not more "authentic" but at least more "exotic." There was music in the streets, food stands, a King and Queen holding court, and bands parading about town as locals and tourists alike sat at outdoor restaurants enjoying the good food, the better wine, the gorgeous sun, and the goings on. It really was a lovely day. We felt like we had been transfered to a different world as we ate lunch on our little benchs and table on a cobble stone-street and an "old Scottish couple" ambled by having a very loud marital quarrel, with on-lookers (following close behind gathering juicy tidbits for the next morning's gossip at the wash bins) muttering and cheering as the old man or woman each dealt some pretty impressive verbal blows.



After our lunchtime entertainment, we walked the streets licking gelato off of cones and our fingers, and shopped a bit in boutiques all sporting their medieval wares. I was almost inspired to finally buy myself a medieval costume for future events, but decide not too, again.



As we headed home, Dave discovered the "game court" where jesters and bar men hosted old-fashioned games on wooden board with stone and metal pieces. Cool, Dave exclaimed. A kid could actually get hurt with these pieces! He couldn't resist watching the games and joining in the cheering as young children struggled to win little gold pieces for their toil. About a half hour in, I realized I had completely lost Dave for the afternoon, so I decide to sit on a bench and read a book I had handily carried with me in my purse. I put on my big straw hat to protect me from the sun and headed to a bench near the "bowling" sandbox. On the way, I passed a group of older Frenchmen all dressed in their Renaissance finery, and smiled at their fabulous costumes. However, I realized that was a mistake immediately as one of the men stared and grinned back. Oops!! I blew it again! I REALLY REALLY need to learn to not smile at Frenchmen!

To try to recover, I sat on the bench, and stared straight down at my book, so that all anyone could see on that bench was basically a big straw hat and blue jean. Okay, I felt safe now. But within minutes some man was lifting my hat and fire hosing me with French exclamations. He wasn't drunk, but he had an accent so I couldn't understand a word he was saying. But he was very animatedly exclaiming something. As I sat there baffled, I thought this couldn’t be happening. Old men are supposed to be safe. What are they doing?! One of the costumed men sat very close to me, put his arm around me and had a friend take a picture. This was my "what the heck just happened there" moment. How many times do you go to a fair NOT dressed in costume and have people who ARE in costume want to take a picture with YOU? Isn't that backwards? But now all the men were getting into it. They sat around me laughing and talking and taking tons of pictures with this woman in a blue t-shirt and jeans. What the hell?!!!! Are these guys crazy?

Finally, one of the men put his arm out gallantly and asked if he could show me around the fair. I pointed at Dave and told them my husband would show me around. As soon as they realized I had a husband, they sobered up. "Au revoir Madame!" they exclaimed, now on their most formal behavior. "Bon Journee!" And they slipped out into the crowd. What the hell?! Now that I have a husband they are more respectful? They couldn't have been that way before? Didn't they notice the huge fake ring on my finger? FRENCHMEN!!!! No matter what age they are, they are all just PERVS!