On Crêperies and Bars

Best Week(end) Ever, Part Four

Friday night, after the orientation, I was ready to relaxxxxx. C took me to a bar just around the corner from her house where a bunch of her colleagues and friends were already gathered. I knew some of them already and the others I met for the first time. As usual, everyone was really nice. I learned something fun – karaoke sounds the same, usually bad, pretty much universally. About an hour in, L (one of my English teachers) and her friends invited me to dinner with them. Once they found out I hadn’t had a proper French crêpe yet it was clear where we were going.

There was a little crêperie nearby where I ordered the most delicious (and only) crêpe I have ever had. See, I always thought for some reason (maybe because the literal translation of crêpe is pancake) that crêpes were like dessert, or breakfast food. I thought they were sweet, which they can be, but they also have varieties for a meal. I forget the exact name of the one I ordered, but it had camembert (my fave!), ham, and lettuce. It was awesome. I also had a glass of blush wine and some of L’s Nutella crêpe for dessert.

I really enjoyed myself at the crêperie. It turns out everyone I was with could speak English really well, and the two men wanted to practice their English a little. We had a nice, long conversation in Franglais. We talked politics, stereotypes, languages, school, me, them, everything. It felt good to be able to say some sentences in French. I think I’ve come a long way so far.

After dinner we went back to the bar and most of the people were still there. There was a huge karaoke party going on in the back for someone’s birthday (woot woot), and it made me sad. At home, I have a specific title: liaison to pop culture. There is not a single popular karaoke song - from any decade - that could play in America that I would not know. It’s my job. And here, I don’t know any of them. And anyone who knows me understands the tragedy of this.

Well, our sojourn at the bar after dinner was cut a little short after some extreme flirting on the part of one drunk guy, who swore I had not seen Paris until I had seen Paris with him. It was getting late anyway, so C and I returned back to her home and got some rest, in preparation for the day to come.