Introduction to French Boys

To clarify what exactly is going on with me and the male part of French culture, I need an entire post. Tara now thinks I'm a slut but I blame Steph for that as well as my tendency to freak out over trivial things and hurriedly message my "friends" over the internet.
Basically, the best way to describe French boys is through a case study. Luckily, I happen to know of the perfect male for this in-depth analysis. His name is I, or as I like to call him; Hot French Douchebag, or HFD for short.
I'll start with how we met.
Well, I came to France with pretty freaking high expectations. French boys- aren't they the most romantic in the world? Gradually I realised in the course of my first day that France was just like any other country- it has its fair share of assholes and not-so-attractive guys. But, however, I had noticed one. He seemed to be a bit of a loner, just kind of keeping to himself in class. Oh, and he was super hot. Super hot. I thought to myself, "He's probably a struggling artist or something." Which made him even more attractive. He even seemed quite nice.
Oh, how wrong I was.
The first time I actually met him was during this class called "TP Hebergement". I was kind of excited to do it because our task for that lesson was checking each other into this fake hotel. I hadn't really talked to A a lot and it seemed to be a great bonding exercise. Just when A was starting with "Welcome to the Hotel", we noticed HFD pulling a chair up between us.
My french wasn't very good back then,  but I'm pretty sure the conversation went something like this:
A: What are you doing?
HFD: There's no one else to work with. I have to join a pair.
A and I looked around the room at the same time and sure enough, everyone else was paired off with someone else, which left poor HFD all alone. And coincidentally, that allowed him to join pairs with the new Australian girl and her french sister! La chance!
His presence made things remarkably more awkward. He kept on asking my questions in English, like "Do you have MSN?" and things like that. I "tactfully" avoided answering any of them directly by using English that was too advanced for his level. And then he promptly tried to teach me the word "ass" in French. (It's fesse, in case anyone was wondering.)
Just as a side note, A detests HFD. Makes sense, because he's an absolute dick to her. He calls her "Fiona"- like from Shrek.
I forbade myself to look at him after that. Who knows when he would do something like that again? The answer came soon enough- Tuesdays.
Tuesdays, my class has TP. As fore-mentioned, my school is an hotellerie school, so in order to gain the proper skills to go into restaurants and hotels etc, the school has a full-functional restaurant in the school, operated by the students. That Tuesday, it was my class's turn to be the waiters/waitresses. And because I was foreign and not at all skilled in that area, I was put behind the scenes- aka dishwashing and cleaning glasses. A was leaving me in the care of some other girl called M so I was kind of vulnerable in that sense.
That was when HFD pounced.
Imagine this; you're foreign, you barely understand the language, you have no idea what's going and then some cute guy walks up to you and asks if you want to do dish duty with him.
What do you do? You stand there staring at him until your french sister comes up to you and tells you that it's okay to go with him and that he's not going to rape you. So I did just that.
French boys are curious. HFD asked me so many questions, perhaps the most important one being; "are Australian boys funny?"
Me: Yes, very.
HFD: And me? (leans in with a big goofy grin) Am I funny?
Me: No, you're boring.
Looking back, I have no idea what made me say that. I'm pretty sure my train of thought was "NO, FUCK, WHAT DO I DO, WHAT DO I DO? WHAT'S THE OPPOSITE OF FUNNY? AGH!". My brain neatly supplied me with "boring". And it repeatedly came to haunt me.
His face when I said immediately switched to one of a sad puppy that's been left out in the rain and also his paws hurt because a badger bit them off. I meant it as a joke.
About an hour later, whilst cleaning glasses, he comes up to me.
HFD: You think I'm boring?
Me: Yes, you're so (I can't think of how to describe him...)
HFD: (SAYING ABSOLUTELY NOTHING AND STARING AT ME REALLY INTENSELY)
Me: It was a joke.
HFD: What?
Me: It was a joke, you know, ha ha ha. A very bad joke.
HFD: Oh. Because, I thought A has been telling you bad things about me. She doesn't like me.
Note: I thought we had resolved this whole "boring" issue, but sometimes he'll randomly bring it up again.
Me: Uh-huh. (Can't see why.)
HFD: Do you like me?
Me: Wh-what?
HFD: Do you like me?
Me: I- I-
HFD: (intense stare)
Me: Sure. If it helps you sleep at night.
HFD: (too much English) What?
Me: Sure.
HFD: Sure means... yes?
Me: Yes.
HFD: (goes back to washing glasses)
And from that point forward, every Tuesday I have interacted with HFD in some form or another. It's never any other day of the week, it's always just Tuesdays. I do have fun with him, but that's mainly because he's super rude and immature. He reminds me of someone, but I'm not sure who...
Another thing that HFD does that every other french boy does is swear. In English, and badly. It's just all the swear words in rap songs. But they don't know how to use them properly. I have been told so many times about sucking dicks by so many boys in my class I have an urge to take them by the shoulders, give them a good shake, and scream "THAT'S NOT HOW WE SAY THINGS IN ENGLISH".
And consequently, I have been trying to teach them how to swear correctly. Which is hard, trust me.
I told them about the word "ranga", and now I am still trying to convince HFD that "mother-fucking bitch ranga" is not an acceptable swear word.
So, that's French boys in a nutshell; arrogant, bad swearers and thoroughly enjoying having "fun" with me.
I actually have bundles of even more delightful stories involving HFD and me, but let's just leave it at that, shall we?