At the end of a long day touring The Tower of London and the rest of the city on a big, red, double-decker bus, I was attempting to make it to the National Museum before closing time. Luigi was the French/Italian tour guide with a wonderfully dry sense of humor who confirmed that the museum was closed and promptly began flirting with me. I was the tired American tourist who was more than a little bored with London, but flattered that a handsome European with a fantastic accent was paying attention to me. And oh yeah, I was also feeling a wee bit lonely after a week spent exploring Slovenia with me, myself and I. Although the attention was nice it was clearly a recipe for disaster or at least near-disaster!
It started innocently enough. I asked about the museum, he said he couldn't tell me unless I smiled for him. So I flashed my pearly whites at which point he told me he would do whatever I wanted if I would just smile at him again. I rolled my eyes and laughed and started to walk away, he stopped me and offered to walk me back to my hotel, which was convenient since I was a little lost. Now, as naive as I can be (as you'll soon learn), I am not so stupid as to give a complete stranger the name of my hotel. Instead I played dumb and pretended that I couldn't remember so he asked me to have a drink with him instead and I spontaneously agreed, oblivious to the fact that I had just been played.
As we walked toward Hyde Park he grabbed my hand as we crossed the busy street. Guess he thought I might step in front of one of those big, red buses. ;-) But I was too busy being flattered to notice his violation of my personal space, something I usually guard rather fiercely. As we enjoyed the amazing weather, bright blue skies and beautiful flowers we talked about our jobs and families. He really tried to turn on the charm by exaggerating his accent but I just laughed and asked him he thought that would work. He winked and said it usually did and then hugged AND kissed me! Now, perhaps you're thinking that I would finally see the writing on the wall, but you would be wrong.
You see, after many years I had finally succeeded in becoming an invisible woman in image-conscious America. I was out of practice; no longer used to the attention of men. I was so convinced that I was revolting that I honestly thought he was just enjoying a nice walk with a new friend. I was an easy target, completely blind to his true intentions. CRINGE.
By the time we made it out of the park his XOXOs were finally starting to bug me. I was still willing to meet him for drinks, but then he upped the ante by saying we should both go freshen up at which point he would join me in my hotel room with a bottle of wine. Saw what? Did he think I was easy? WTH? Finally my eyes were WIDE open and his intentions were crystal clear, but instead of telling him off or at the very least slapping him I was still trying to be nice! I politely told him that I was not comfortable with that option and he backed off rather quickly, stuttering that it was just a suggestion, blah, blah, blah. And believe it or not, I felt guilty for leading him on! American idiot, right here in the flesh (ode to Green Day).
When we parted at the entrance to the tube I was sufficiently stressed and paranoid. I very cautiously crept down the street toward my hotel, darting in and out of different stores and crossing the street in a zigzag pattern as I imagined covert CIA operatives did when trying to escape the KGB. After taking 30 minutes to walk the 2 blocks to my hotel I entered completely befuddled. Thankfully there were some nice ladies in the common room who talked some sense into me and I decided to stay in for the night. On a side note it really is a small world. Even though they were from Oregon we knew people in common and one of them was heading to visit her friends in Kandern, the tiny village where I had left Laurie and her family just a week earlier!
All in all my encounter with Luigi was not the best way to end my trip. Although I can laugh about it now, at the time it was really upsetting. I was angry at my own stupidity and naiveté. As I settled into my closet room I cried in frustration as I realized that I had squandered my last opportunity to partake of Indian food in London, one of few things on my must-do list. If only I had clued in sooner I could have walked away unscathed and filled my grumbling tummy with some yummy Chicken Tika!
Told you I was naive. So now you know why I have avoided writing about London for so long. Aside from my disappointment it's just plain embarrassing to admit how dumb I was! Here's to hoping I've learned my lesson. At least I can enjoy good Indian food locally and I'm pretty sure there is no one named Luigi frequenting India Palace! ;-)
