Day 15: "Can I see your ID?"

The "Fête de la Musique" was a late night (or really just early morning i.e. 4am) so it comes as no surprise that the next day was a late morning. Having snoozed my alarm out of existence, I woke up even later than anticipated. Oops...my body was just asking, no BEGGING, for sleep. Getting up a little in a frenzy because of the afternoon hour glaring at me on my watch, I still had time to snag some coffee and corn flakes for breakfast.

The sun was shining through my window after breakfast, so naturally it would have been disgraceful to stay inside.

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Packing up my electronics, I walked with purpose towards the Luxembourg gardens...Who could have guessed!? Along the 30 minute stroll, I passed a Franprix that had an array of strawberries that were just calling my name...marweena, marWEEna, come buy me!!! So I did. A huge tub of vibrant red strawberries, and I ate them all.

The park, with glowing light piercing through the foliage, was what my soul needed. Sitting down on a chair in the cozy shade, strawberry after strawberry entering my mouth, I wrote. I wrote for this blog. I wrote part of my redaction for my French homework. I wrote to my mom (i.e. answered her texts).

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Needing a little change of scenery, I put one hundred or so feet between me and the chair I had been sitting in so that I could spread myself out on the grass.

Eventually the need to pee consumed me, so I felt it was time to head back to the apartment.

A little perusal in the department store, Le Bon Marché, just for fun, and then a change of clothes for the night out.

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Before the shenanigans could begin, a very necessary stop at Domino's was arranged. Just a regular cheese pizza...WITH REAL FRENCH CHEESE. Essentially, I am telling you that the Domino's in the States is just disgraceful. Anna and I plopped down on grass and devoured it. A little spicy oil to make our lips burn and we were two very happy campers.

The first stop of the night was Le Perchoir Marais at the BHV. This translates to "rooftop bar with great view." A little rosé, a little view of the sparkling metal tower...and then off to the next stop: Le Comptoir Générale. Everything is a solid thirty-minute walk, and this one was no different. Arriving at midnight, the outside was utterly nondescript. Just the number and a big bouncer dude at the front. And then, he carded us...for the first time ever, my vertical California driver's license, i.e. the sign of a child, was useful. I was 18, my ID stated I was 18, and 18 was all I had to be. Woah.

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The bar itself was a big win. Walking through an alley towards the electric pink arrow indicating the entrance, I felt like I was in the know.

The inside was something else. Packed with young people, the decorations were reminiscent of a vague tropical but eclectic theme; funky and just dark enough so that it did not look tacky. Heading to the bar, I ordered myself a cocktail for the first time ever: El Chico. Tequila, pineapple, maracuja, mint leaves, and grenadine. Yum.

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We danced. We were approached by weird men. We shooed away weird men. We danced some more. We got really hot. We were approached some more. We kept on shooing. We salsa'd. Then we left. All in all, it was a good night.