Kicking & Screaming

Even though I complain about not having my friends from back home around, when they're here, I turn into a baby once they decide to go out. It's not that I don't want to spend time with them. It's more about me avoiding the smoke and the resulting headache I have the next day from inhaling too much of the filth. So last night, I tried to steer Dave clear of venturing out in Paris on a Saturday night. It didn't work. Dave dragged me out, along with Peter, for an late night that was suprisingly tolerable for a variety of reasons.

Our first stop was Mixer. It's a small, overly smoky bar with boom box speakers hanging from the ceiling. But the tweaked crowd praying to the paper maché Halloween decorations entertained us for at least one drink. The second, Carre, was more refreshing with a lounge-like environment. We sat and cruised the scene while Madonna's latest CD was on repeat (most likely since it's release last November). Our final stop was Les Baines Douche, which after it's refurbishement this summer, is one of the better gay clubs in Paris. It may be small with only one bar for over a 1,000 people, but the music was energetic and the crowd lively.

So even though I went kicking and screaming, I managed to turn my frown upside down. I won't become a regular. But it's good to know there are bars and clubs I can tolerate when out-of-towners feel obligated to see for themselves a bit of Parisian gay nightlife.