I once met a cute French girl working as a security guard Versallis, and wanted to ask her out for drinks after work.
It took about 30 minutes of pantomine, and her limited knowledge of English and Spanish for me to translate these intentions.
Finally she agreed, and we met at the statue of Louis XIV to travel on the train to Paris, where we settled into a table at a little cafe. She had an extraordinarily long conversation with the waiter, and ordered a Aqua Menthe.
I could embellish the story with some sordid French sexual escapade involving expensive lingere, chocolate and Octopii, but I have enough of those not to need to make anything up. Instead I'll tell the truth: I was happy just to sit with her.