While I was going to culinary school in Chicago I had the unique opportunity to visit Paris, France. What started as an offhand comment about sunglasses soon turned into a very expensive "learning opportunity". It started when Farra and I were in the library at school, she mentioned that her designer sunglasses were broken and she needed to get a new pair. When I suggested that she go downtown and get some new ones, she looked at me like I'd proposed the preposterous. "My love…you cannot get these sunglasses just ANYWHERE, they are from Paris!"
Now Farra is a short little Filipino firecracker of a woman. Her English is that of someone whom I imagine spent a great deal of time watching American infomercials and QVC as a child, interspersed with exclamations like, "But wait! There's MORE!" and other overly enthusiastic comments about everyday items, "Try this Biscotti, it's EXTRAORDINARY! Hurry this offer won't last long!" Farra could usually be found wearing some sort of high end fashion, at least higher end than whatever I could dig out of the bargain bin at Rag-o-rama, so if she says these sunglasses can only be found in Paris…I'll take her word for it.
"Well then, we'll just have to fly to Paris and get some more," I told her. Turning to our friend Noelle sitting behind us, "Hey Farra and I are going to Paris to buy sunglasses…wanna get in on this?" I joked.
But the joke was on me; Farra went home and talked to a travel agent and came to school the next day with a quote. "My love, I found us a trip to Paris over spring break for the great price of $900, WHAT A DEAL!"
Now to me, a deal is getting a dented can of corn at the grocery store for half off, or haggling down the price of some pots and pans at a yard sale to somewhere under a dollar….$900 was not a deal to me. To my broke and starving 19 year old self, $900 was a fortune….but being an American I have a credit card and an incredibly impulsive personality, so I was actually considering it.
Word spread quickly that we were going to France, and we soon had several people interested in going with us. One morning as I was headed to class I was stopped by one of my instructors, apparently she had spoken to the President of Le Cordon Bleu-Paris and had gotten the ok for us to sit in on some classes. It was the opening I needed. I suddenly had a legitimate reason to go to Paris, and I could use my recently won scholarship money to do so. I called Farra and let her know I was in, we were going to Paris.
Reservations were made, bags were packed, and a few weeks later we were in Paris. Now I wish it had been the learning experience I'd hoped it would be…however I spent most of my trip drinking wine, and eating bread and wandering around Paris without any particular destination in mind. I also fought with the other girls fairly frequently as we could never agree on what we wanted to do or where we wanted to eat. But one thing we did agree on is that we wanted to party, and Farra wanted to go clubbing.
Being the mastermind of our trip to Paris, Farra was put in charge of finding us a club to go to. She told us of this very posh club she had heard about and off we went. On the way we stopped at a bar for a few pre club cocktails. Getting our 19 year old drink on, we proceeded to act ridiculous. Linking straws together we attempted to make an elaborate SUPER STRAW, the drunker we got, the more outrageous our behavior.
Feeling adequately liquored up we decided to head to this "Posh Club" Farra had been talking about nonstop for the past week.
After procuring directions we made our way to the nightclub, or Discotheque as they are referred to in Europe. My first inclination that something was amiss was when we arrived at the club and there was no line. We could hear music blasting from within and were met by a bouncer at the door. He told us it would cost 20 Euros to enter….
Eff that. With the current exchange rate €20 was around $35 USD. No freaking way. So as we decided to split, he stopped us. "10 Euro and free drink!"
That should have been my second clue; no "posh club" I've ever heard of haggles the cover charge…but we decided to go for it.
We followed the thumping music down a hallway to where the club opened up into a lounge area.
It was DESERTED.
Well not completely, there was what appeared to be a homeless person, and apparently a transvestite grooving on the dance floor. Other than that, we were the only patrons.
We burst out laughing.
"Well it is a Wednesday…." Farra stated as we took in the emptiness.
We laughed harder, and then proceeded to get our free drinks. I ordered a rhum coke and was given a tumbler full of cheap spiced rum with the smallest splash of coke inside. It was terrible.
Below is a picture of the empty club.
Soon enough the homeless man took notice of the 5 American girls huddled in a booth and began to accost us. Grinding on our table and beckoning us towards the dance floor he proceeded to spend the next 45 min chasing us around the bar. If one of us got up to go to the bathroom, there he was. We soon adopted the buddy system and after that proved futile we abandoned the club entirely.
We pounced on Farra, who defended her choice of venue emphatically. "We should have gone on a weekend! It would be much better on a weekend!"
We decided to head back to the bar we were originally at, and after a couple rounds of drinks we were informed that some gentlemen across the bar would like to offer us some drinks. We accepted whole heartedly.
Soon after that we were told that our presence was required at the bar, where we were to do shots. Again, we acquiesced.
Liquors were poured and shots were downed, one after the other. Rainbow shots, taste of hell, and soon absinthe.
"AMERICAN GIRLS DANCE ON THE BAR!"
And we did.
Drinks in hand we danced on the bar, like a less sexy version of coyote ugly.
And on it continued.
Somewhere around 3 we were informed that the bar was closing…but the American girls could stay.
They kicked out the other patrons, with the exception of the men who had bought us drinks, and locked the doors. We didn't find anything wrong with this situation….at least not immediately.
The party was in full swing and the drinks were flowing. We were on spring break in Paris!
I'd slowed down considerably after they'd locked us in and about an hour later conscious thought began to reform. What the hell were we doing?
It was about this time we got our bar tab from the bartender.
€400!
Ashen faced, I handed the tab to my friends. Eyes bugged out as we whispered to each other at our inability to pay such a high bill….
One my my friends, who shall remain nameless, solved this problem. She grabbed one of the guys and proceeded to make out with him. Another girl followed suit. Soon they were pulling wads of cash out of their pockets and were paying for our bill. The bartender unlocked the door and we were free.
Out into the streets of Paris we stumbled, followed by a group of French men. As my friends untangled themselves from these men, we attempted to flee back to our hotel. Clearly they had other things in mind.
"No, we go back to hotel!"
"American girls come home with us!"
"NOOO go away"
Begging, the men followed after us as we stumbled towards to hotel.
In desperation we began to insult them, batting them away like stray dogs trying to follow us home.
Finally, they gave up and we were free.
Into the hostel we tumbled. The clocks reading somewhere around 5 am.
Our flight home was at 11 am
Alarms were set, and we passed out for our nap.
I have never had a worse flight anywhere than the flight home from Paris. Groggy, hungover, reeking of booze and cigarette smoke.
But I have also never had as much fun at a bar as I did that night.
Yes, I realize that our behavior was stupid and dangerous…but that's part of what made it so much fun. These are the shoulda coulda woulda experiences people are always telling me to seize. It was my one and only college spring break, but it will remain embedded in my mind forever….what I can remember of it at least.
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