red light district, and I strolled over to the sidewalk in front of a number of establishments, but I wasn't ready for what happened next. I was invited into a club and given a date for the evening, a very beautiful young French woman.  We had a great conversation together, and I shared where I was staying, eventually letting it slip that this was my last night in Paris before continuing my journey south...all the while we enjoyed drinks, and watched a dance - yes, the dancers were partially or fully nude. Meanwhile I admired my lady's cosmospolitan poise and great smile.  To make a long story short I got the willies, thanked my "date", and left the place in a bit of a hurry.  The next day on the fast train to south France, I looked up from my magazine to see a well dressed stylish young woman wearing a matching hat seated immediately facing me! Her eyes were behind sun glasses - you know the big fashionable kind.  I froze, and felt my face reddening, because I could swear she was the sweetheart from the night before, my "date" the club.  Am I guilty for having had this kind of imagination at the time, and now, years later, still feeling titillated at the thought of being chased (er, stalked) by a girl who works in an environment like that?
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