'Part 1?' you might be asking, 'Who is this egomaniac who thinks her weekend is soooo exciting that people will want to read about it in instalments?'
I am assuming that is a rhetorical question, readers.
Enough questions, Amy is sat on my bed reading a magazine as I type and I need to finish this blog post before she gets through the end of 'Fifty Things Men Say Women Should Do To Make Them Good At Sex' (She's reading some out to me and it's made me never want to have sex again, not if I have to 'wear cowboy boots, naked' or 'treat the penis like an ice-cream'. It's not 1999 and your penis is not an ice cream, no matter how much I wished it was.)
So. I'll start at the beginning...
Me and Kayt collected Amy off the Roissy-Bus on Thursday night. It was so exciting and lovely, the shops were glittering with Christmas illuminations and our favourite Scouser was back in the City of Light. (You could tell she'd been back in Liverpool for a few months, because she had eyelash-extensions in and when we all went to bed at Kayt's, Amy went to sleep with a roller in her fringe.)
The first night we all stayed at Kayt's, because she has a real studio with a mezzanine and a double bed and a door separating her bathroom from her kitchen, but she had friends from uni staying, so for Friday and Saturday Amy was my 'house guest', although it's not a house is it? It's basically a kitchen with a bed and a shower in the corner (which is my excuse for eating so much, because how can you control yourself when you LIVE in a kitchen?).
I was a bit worried about how we were going to handle the 'shower situation' but we got around the problem by not washing. Well, one of us did, the other showered while the dirty one was at work. I won't tell you who is who, but erm, Amy doesn't work in Paris anymore...
On Friday night Kayt and her friends had tickets for something and me and Amy, being skint, decided to have a cheap night out on our own. We drank two bottles of Vieux Pape, the cheapest, most hatest red wine in France, then we went out and met Chloe, who was my current family's au pair last year. She was here for the weekend because she misses Paris, obviously, and also to see the kids again. (Yes, the kids that I now work with, keep up.)
We went to a bar called Le Fifth (or something like that) on Rue Mouffetard, which was quite nice, but after one drink we decided to go somewhere where we could 'have a dance'. Chloe's French friend Julliette suggested Le Violin Dinde* (The Crazy Violin) which is a really touristy bar/cave club near Châtelet. None of us were really overly-excited but we were all skint and no better ideas, so we ended up trip-trapping across the city to get there.
Once we got inside, Chloe got talking to some Americans who complained that it wasn't 'popping'. "Do you know where it's popping?" they asked us. I had no idea what they were talking about, but I assumed they wanted to go to a club with Proper Music, so I wrote down the address of Nouveau Casino. I felt all Smug and Knowledgeable, until they asked us why we weren't going there too.
"We, erm, can't afford it." was our answer.
But we had a good time anyway! Dowstairs in the cave was a lot livelier and they were playing music we could dance to- indie/RnB etc. The drinks weren't too expensive and we got shots bought for us by two gentleman who took a liking to Chloe. Unfortunately they thought that as they had bought tequila, they were entitled to ask us if we were 'shaven or waxed' so we said a few sharp words to them and took to the dancefloor.
I know I say this a lot but men really are awful aren't they?
Me and Amy got chatting to someone who insisted he could get us both back to his apartment for a threesome. He said 'If you come back with me I will pay you a hundred euros each if you don't both climax.'
Well, we couldn't lose really could we?
We found that statement so amusing that we decided to stick around a bit longer, just for the Laughs and Jokes. Chloe and Juliette decided to leave about 3am and me and Amy really, really should have left with them. But we didn't. We stayed until our new mate was leaving and then Amy made us follow him out of the club to see if he was having 'an after-party'. This is why I blame Amy for everything, because she is obsessed with after-parties. She always want the night to go on and on, even if you have gone late-night shopping at H&M, you have to drag her back from asking the shop assistants if are having an after-party after the shop closes.
So. Outside we were chatting with Our New Mate and his two friends, and we saw they had scooters. SCOOTERS! It is every girl's dream to ride around Paris on the back of a mysterious dark-haired man's scooter...
Ok Amy didn't realise it was going to take me this long, so I'll finish this later tonight.
*Kayt just informed that it's called Le Violin Dingue, Le Violin Dinde means 'The Meat Violin' which as Amy just said, 'sounds like a really vile euphemism'