girl at large

there's this guy who walks down our street and up through 'dog poop lane' nearly everyday on his way to and from the port—seems it's his favorite shortcut. i've seen him hundreds of times, heard him greet someone in english once–i think he may even be american. but he's been here long enough to adopt that french-style frozen face—no american-style smile and greet on the street with him.
which is a shame. because this guy. is. yum-my.
but wait a minute! two days ago i popped out the front door and there he was again. and i got a relaxed face and a mumbled bonjour! what a development!
and this morning, when i reached out to open the shutters, there he was again, just below. i ducked in of course—no one needs to see me before i've had my shower and coffee. i'm a natural disaster area in the morning.