It's a strange thing that the City of Light is arguably more alive at night than during the day.
The other evening, the french ex petit ami failing to turn up chez moi, I met up with some other girls for a drink. Of course a cocktail turned into Tequila slammers, then a bottle of wine between two and at 2am me and the other last anglophone standing had just enough of unfriendly Parisiens, Berliners and rather too friendly Marocains and Bresilien jews, and wanted food (her) somewhere to sit down (me) and rich men (both of us).
If I say a New York Banker, the most amazing goat's cheese salad and two bottles of Moet et Chandon were involved, I'll let your imagination decide on the ending.
I've decided students are not the way forward. Too pretentious/inexperienced/awkward/immature for words. So we are going on a search and survey of rich men in Paris. Next stop Champs Elysees.
I just can't go back to the Bastille/L'an Vert du Decor in a while- the waitress gave some very judging looks to us- Perhaps going in having one Cosmopolitan, leaving and coming back 4 hours later with a rich american who is old enough to be your father is the only way to raise the eyebrows of a parisienne serveuse. Especially when he asks his 'little british Harry Potter' to taste the champagne when the serveuse gives it to him to try!
Today's Song is...
Hercules and Love Affair- Blind
I can't stop listening to this, how come I've never heard this in a club or bar?!
