Jeff in IT

So while Hatch and I were in Paris we kept a keen eye on the possibility of a new friend. Ever watchful, the first morning in Paris we were on the jam-packed Metro on our way to the Arc de Triomphe (btw what is up with every hour of the day in Paris having totally packed Metros? Do these people work? Why do the cars look no different between "rush hour" and "hey shouldn't you be at work hour"?) when we spotted him. We were crammed like little le sardines in a tin Metro can when this guy got into our car and was standing in front of us, alone but for a copy of Rick Steves' Paris 2008. The North American version.
We said to ourselves, "NEW FRIEND!"
He also debarked at the Arc (as it is the terminus of the line, he really had nowhere else to go) and we sort of stalked him while we went about being tourists. We made up stories about him while we walked in the tunnel to the Arc. I decided his name was Jeff. And he worked in IT. Hatch decided his name was Michael and he was traveling the world to find himself. We both decided he was rather friendly and that we'd all get along quite swimmingly.
I admit, most of the time at the Arc de Triomphe I was completely distracted. I was interested in the Napeleon and the generals carved in stone, but the real story was WHERE WAS JEFF? We'd see him and then he'd be gone. He was like our own French Carmen Sandiego.
ANYWAY. We saw our chance at the Arc. Jeff was taking a photo of it and we meekly approached and asked in French if he spoke English (even if you know you have to pretend) and if he'd take a photo of us together. All a ruse to start a convo. Which we did. We spent the rest of the day, and part of the next day with our new friend.
Whose name happened to be Derek.
Who didn't work in IT, but is an epidemiologist specializing in TB.
From Canada.
My bad, Jeff.