party

Last night, after work, I was dragged out to a house party. I was not sure, if this really was a good idea as a friend of mine was supposed to show up at my door 10am. I thought that preparing a presentation with no sleep will not be appreciated. However, I took my bike and headed up towards the north of Paris. In fact, I noticed that my destination was very close to the place where I once got my bike stuck to a pole (but that is yet another story).

When I arrived to the nice, typical Parisian two storeys flat, with an enormous balcony and a big back garden, the party had kicked off pretty well. The host had equipped us with live music, 63 bottles of champagne, 200 bottles of wine, 20litres of punch and I think I saw someone holding a beer. With a class filled with punch or rather the fruit from the punch, I started my tour.

An hour later, we were eating strawberries and drinking another bottle of champagne. More people kept coming in and the music became louder and louder (and the it sounded the worse and worse as empty wine bottles were removed from the area serving as a stage for the band).

Somewhere further away, two guys were having an argument. I had no idea what they were saying but from further away they looked like a double Charles Chaplin film. While hiding away from a camera I went around questions about why I had come alone. The answer is no secret, but the problem was that the questions were directly followed by other ones inquiring what I thought about the guys at the party. Luckily someone started to dance and we joined in.

Finally I decided it was time for me to retire. I wished good night to my friends, who had, at that stage attached themselves to the table filled with cakes, turned my ipod at full volume and started biking home. I climbed over the old drunk who had decided to place himself in my entry way, said no thank you to a drink of something that remotely looked like drinkable alcohol and climbed up to the sixth floor.

I set my alarm and just in case another one and hid under the duvet. What a night – yet again.

ps. it is now 15min past ten and my friend is not here - i think i go back to bed