Now where was I ? Stealthily merging in with the crowds at Saint-Lazare station in Paris I believe. After the excitement of the train ride in, Ms Sassy Britches and I decided to move at a much more sedate pace for a spell. We drifted around amongst the throng of hyped up revellers. We took some time out to eat a ridiculously over-priced super thin pizza (and really, who puts an entire slice of ham on the top ? That's just crazy stuff) and we went for the obligatory view of the Eiffel Tower, dodging spruikers at every turn...um hello, do we look like tourists ? We live here *ahem*.
It wasn't long before we were overcome with an unquenching thirst, all that running around you know, and we ventured off to an Irish bar which Ms Sassy Britches was familiar with (fearless and quite the girl around town).
Now I'm sure that you can understand that from this point forward, events become slightly blurred (obviously the pizza and that giant slice of ham), so I will try and keep them in order to the best of my ability.
Firstly, it has been my experience, that drinking in a bar and attempting conversation is a tricky business when you all speak the same language. Throw multiple Nationalities into the mix and it is downright hysterical and suddenly turns into a drunken game of charades. Which in itself is challenging when the person initiating the charades has probably forgotten what it was that they were trying to say about half way through the 'conversation'.
Secondly..actually I don't have a secondly, I just wanted to say 'firstly', so we'll just continue on shall we ? There was a rather diverse mix of characters in the bar that evening, from locals to tourists to drifters like ourselves. But I just have to mention Axl...yes, as in Rose, but said with a French accent of course. Axl was hot, he was a Parisian local, and he had that rocker bad boy thing going on. Axl and Ms Sassy Britches were 'acquainted' from a previous evening spent at the Irish bar and I rather believed that Ms Sassy Britches was still quite enamoured with his rugged charms.
So imagine my surprise when Axl came over and started to whisper (read, holler loudly over the music) French sweet nothings in my ear with a devilish smirk on his handsome features.
"Urm," stuttered I, clearly a master of the English Language, "Are you looking for Ms Sassy Britches ? I think she's right over there,"
"Oh no, no, no," crooned Axl with his velvety accent "It is you I am looking for,"
"Um...er......but I thought...."
Much to my relief, this was the moment that Ms Sassy Britches decided to head back on over. Axl gave my hand a gentle squeeze, winked, kissed Ms Sassy Britches AND I both on the cheeks, then vanished back into the night like a mysterious French vampire.
Oh dear, I know I'm going to make you groan, but it looks like we're going to require a Part Three, sorry Peeps. x
5 years ago