There was a time I loved to do romantic things, and I quite liked it. I had a girlfriend at university, she studied French and Italian, we were dating for some time. And her study included living and working in Paris for 6 months. She asked me to go to Paris on the weekend with her and help to settle down. I told her that I couldn’t because I had a very important audition which I couldn’t shift. To tell the truth my movie career was depended on this audition in that moment. I was told to come there on Saturday evening and if I hadn’t shown up I would have never got my hand near it. On Saturday I was on my way to the studio but I turned around in the last moment and went to King’s Cross, took the “Eurostar” and darted to Paris. Of course, I decided to come as a surprise and while riding I stayed connected with her friend. At last I was in Paris and by her friend’s tip-off I found them in the Luxembourg Gardens where they were buying an ice cream. My girlfriend was standing in front of a stand with different flavours of ice cream and couldn’t decide which one to choose. I came, stood up behind her and gently whispered: “It’s a hard choice, isn’t it?” There was more sense and irony for me in this phrase that it might seem at first sight. My deed was even too romantic as my girlfriend had almost fainted from fear. Since then I’ve become more careful in romantic actions. Who knows how my career would have formed if I had gone to that audition?