Day 160: Shock A Parisian.

Because I have been working part-time, I have a few days off during the week that allows me to go to the gym during the day and beat the after work crowd. Yesterday was a brisk and sunny day and I was off to an afternoon butt and thigh tone-up class that was being taught by the bad-ass instructor Amina. Amina, who reminds me of a a mix of Kelis and Dawn from En Vogue, has the most solid, toned pair of legs I have ever seen. She shows them off by wearing tiny shorts that display her ferocious lion tattoo that roars on her upper thigh. She is my inspiration for going to the class but between you, me and the lamppost (as my grandmother says when she wants to gossip), my legs will never look like that. The truth being that I'm too lazy and drink too much wine. 
While Amina is definitely fierce and fabulous, I'm also scared of her and try to not to wimp out when she has us in a squat that hovers a mere 2 inches above the ground for 4 minutes straight. I normally can't walk for about a day after an Amina class.
Taking longer than usual to haul myself out of my apartment, I got to the gym about a minute late and saw that the class had already started and the students were lying on their mats stretching with their legs up in the air and spread apart. There was no sign of Amina whom I assumed was in the 'back' changing the music so I quickly grabbed a mat and set myself down next to the other students and joined them in the inner thigh stretch. 
As it turned out, I actually joined the last few minutes of the class before that was running over schedule and suddenly from the back room Antoine emerged. Fuck! I haven't seen him since our last sleazy incident and here we were, reunited where from his point of view, I had magically appeared in his class and was posing spread eagle. Great.
"America can't wait to move her body." he said with his hands on his hips and a warm smile, "The next class is starting in 5 minutes, ma belle." The rest of class chuckled, I meekly apologized and took me and my little mat to wait on the benches by the door. 
Three minutes later, the class had ended and I took my spot again, hoping that the students from the previous class were going to stay behind but unfortunately only 4 students stayed leaving enough space for another Antoine/Ella episode. I normally take his hyper-aerobics class where there are about 35 people to blend in with, not 5 of us where he can pay special attention to us as we tone our tushies. Normally, these classes are taught by women. And rightfully so. Where's Amina when you need her?
During class, Antoine, whose eyes twinkle like La Côte d'Azur in August couldn't resist "adjusting" me during each exercise as I was in compromising positions wearing my embarrassing bottom of the barrel pink sweatpants that say 'Juicy' on the butt. I tried my best to mirror him in order to prevent him from coming over to 'help' but apparently I wasn't doing anything right. His touch on my hips was giving me visible goosebumps and made the hair on my neck stand up which he had noticed. Damn him. "Vous avez froid?" he asked wanting to know if I was cold as he positioned himself behind me while I was on all fours. No one in the class seemed to blink an eye over our offensive position and the fact that if we were naked we would in fact be having sex. Mortified, I started laughing out of nervousness and kept saying 'ok, c'est bon' as a hint to shoo him away. Seriously, it's fine, I'd rather do it wrong. And to answer his question, no I wasn't cold, I was the exact opposite. 
His charm is kind of annoying. Every time I leave his class, I feel like I just cheated on my boyfriend who by the way gets a kick out of the Antoine stories. "Horny French!" he always exclaims when I share my tales from the gym. I'm glad he is more entertained than me while I feel like the American guinea pig who is being tested on how much vulgarity she can take.
The next time I see him, I am going to do the unspoken. Something completely forward by French standards. Something so unheard of that would make any Parisian gasp in shock and horror. I'm going to give him a good old fashioned American hug, like one of those tight bear ones and pull him out of his comfort zone a bit! See how he likes it. 
Bon week-end tout le monde!