Meet me at the opera

Who wouldn't want to meet someone at the opera? (Don't answer that.)

A couple of weeks ago I met a friend (from the suburbs) for dinner. This time she came to meet me in Paris and she asked me to meet her at the Opera. I decided not to ride my bike (it's actually her bike!) in case we walked a bit and wouldn't be returning to the same place that I'd locked it.  So, I took the metro.

When I was a regular metro user in my early days in Paris, the Opera stop was a favorite.  The doors  would open and the gray, depressing train would fill with music for an instant and then the doors would close again.  I never knew if there was a live performer on the platform in the perfect spot for the music to echo through the station or if this particular station had elevator music (do you call it elevator music in the subway?) piped in.  It didn't matter.  I heard it every time and I smiled every time.

So, I took the metro to the Opera.  This time I got off.  I saw the man playing the accordion.  I wanted to stay and listen for a few minutes, but I was late.  I ran up the stairs and was greeted by "The Opera."  It's a beautiful building, incredibly lit, with a grand set of stairs filled with friends waiting to meet each other at the Opera. It is unforgettable. To top it off, there was a tango lesson taking place at the top of the stairs.

The next night I made plans with a my French-German friend that grew up in Spain.  We're both new to Paris and never quite sure where to meet.  One of us always has to blindly choose a place.  It was my turn, so I texted, "Meet me at the Opera."  She was as excited as I'd been. I hope that the next night she sent the same text to another one of her friends and that meeting at the Opera will never go out of style.