After Friday night's debacle, I was unsure as to where the weekend was heading. I figured that the offers could only get better, but I was equally prepared for them to get worse.
Saturday, I had a really lovely day, managing to get to see the François Rousseau expo at the Maison Européenne de la Photographie. I've always loved his advertising shots - Lacoste, D&G, etc - and to see his works in such large format was amazing. Recommended, if you find yourself in Paris in the next few weeks.
Saturday evening, the Italian postman was heading over 'to collect his watch' that he had 'forgotten' last week. Hmm. I fear this may have been a ruse to get me in the sack again. A ruse which worked, obviously. Ha.
Once he had gone, I got myself dolled up for a night on the town.
At my favourite bar, the music was as loud as usual and the boys were all in town. I had a great evening, chatting with friends and dancing along to the usual suspects. At the risk of sounding like a slut who ends up sleeping with two different men in the same evening...well, let's not go there. I don't want you to think badly of me.
Sunday saw a sore head and a grumpy boy waking up. I wasn't happy. There's not much that can bring me out of this mood, but a sure fire way to try is to head down to les Artisans (my local bar) and see if a pain au chocolat dipped in a steaming chocolat chaud, in the fresh air of the terrasse helps. It kind of helped. A little. I was less grumpy.
After a couple of hours of wandering in the fresh air I took my purchases of 'special treats' (the cremerie on the Île St. Louis being responsible for the cheese based treats which make me fat and slow me down, he he) and headed home for a bit of a snooze.
I managed to get a bit of sleep before the treat that was Sunday evening.
Sunday sees one of the best nights in town as one of the boy bars holds a special 'mediterranean' evening. They say mediterranean, but it's pretty much music from the Lebanon and the middle east, with a clientèle to match. Possibly the most exotic night on the weekly calendar and a great way to finish the weekend.
As I stood there, enjoying the sight of the lebanese guys really letting go on the dancefloor, I figured that this had been a good weekend.
Erotica, exotica and good cheese.
What more does a boy need?