Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Paris isn't the dance club city that NY, London or even Berlin is. In fact the Paris dance club scene sucks, which is OK by me as I hate dance clubs. But I've kicked over all the rocks that I've come across and only found snails and slugs, so maybe expanding my horizons was in order. 

Having reached my level of desperation earlier in the evening my choices were limited by the effect that the dinner wine was having on my addled brain. So as midnight approached I was sitting at my dressing table putting on my make up a slinky dress on the bed. Wags, fed, watered and walked, was watching me.

My plan was to go over the hill to Le Social Club, a suckie choice even among suckie choices, but it is big and that should have improved the random chance of meeting a princess or prince. Shouldn't it have??

It was a disaster, I didn't even find an interesting one night stand or even a lizard, so when the hour hand was well past three, I gave up and dragged my sorry ass home.

At least Wags was glad to see me.



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