Cold. Wet. & Rainy.

I gave 2 tours today.  Both were great.  But I have been cold and wet for the past 3 hours.  Most of the time, this is the time of day where I walk home - enjoy the scenery - get a baguette - ponder the great questions of life; but today, I hopped on the RER and made it home in 15 minutes so I could get out of my cold wet shoes, and my cold wet jeans.  It started hailing on my tour!!  What happened to spring?! 

So... bitter and cold, I am writing this post.  Huh... my dashboard widget says that its 44 and sunny/cloudy.  LIES.  I hope I don't get sick.

But I think now is a great time to write about my current adventures.  

#1: Cool Tourists

I've met quite a few cool tourists lately.  Its been really great to actually get to know people who I think I'll keep in contact with even after the tour ends.  I even went out to dinner with this one girl who was traveling by herself.  We went to a Fat Tire favorite restaurant - Chez Gladine.  Its a very "hole in the wall" type place - only locals go there, and the waiters love us and give us free drinks.  (I'm saying this because it directly relates to later in the story.)  

So after dinner, we meet up with an acquaintance of her friend's.  He is French.  His name is Edward.  Now, my experience with French people has been wonderful.  I love my roommate Fayçal - he is fun, and chill, and would never be caught dead in a chain restaurant or store.  Not to mention - he HATES the Champs-Elysées.  And who doesn't for that matter?!  Its terrible - touristy and expensive and crowded.  Gross.  So automatically I know something is up when this guy tells us to meet him at the Charles de Gaulle Etoile on the Champs-Elysées.  

He takes us to a cafe ON the Champs-Elysées.  One of those places that just SCREAMS "POMPOUS 'JERKS' ONLY" - one of those places with purple, velvet upholstered chairs.  I am not impressed.  So we walk in and NO ONE is there.  I start to look at the menu, and its like 5.50 euro for a coffee.  The waiter comes over to take our order dressed in all white with a black tie, and out of politeness I order a coffee.  He mumbles something in French - even our French friend doesn't understand him.  He says it again slowly.  They're not serving hot drinks anymore.  The cheapest alcoholic drink is like 8 euro.  No thanks.  So I pass.  The French guy and the girl from Philly order champagne.  My tour friend from Vermont also passes.  

Suddenly the waiter shakes his head.  Non.  Zere are four of uz.  Three of uz muzt order someting or we muzt leave.  (Remember how I said the place was empty?) So by this point in time I'm rather annoyed.  First of all - what self-respecting Parisian would EVER even ENTER a place like this?  This place is for stupid tourists who think Paris is all glitz and glamour and purple, velvet upholstered chairs.  To make things worse, Edward seemed like he was a regular there!!! This is also where the stereotype of rude, Parisian waiters comes from.  I have NEVER had a bad experience with a waiter.  They are nice people, as long as you are nice to them.  We end up ordering 3 glasses of 13 euro a glass champagne.  I leave - disgusted.

When I got home, I recounted my adventure to Fayçal.  Maybe my original opinion of Parisians was wrong?  Maybe they're not all cool, and sophisticated, and original?!  Nevertheless, I felt quite disillusioned and sad.  So - I think I'm just going to stick to hanging out with the cool Parisians that I know, and I refuse to go back to the Champs-Elysées for another 7 years.

#2  Dinner Parties

Bottom line.  Its the end of the month.  None of us has gotten a paycheck yet (silly French system - only getting paid once a month.)  So we are getting low on cash.  Most of us are living off our tips alone.  So eating out is not really an option.  Therefore, we have started throwing massive dinner parties.  So much fun!  I would say almost every night, about 5 or 6 of us at least get together and make dinner.  

Blakely with pre-dinner snacks... and drinks.

Playing the "adjective game" with Laura and Amanda - the word was "French mustache"

"Be a pirate!"

Dana - one of our fearless cooks.

The other thing about Fat Tire is never make a statement you're not prepared to back up - Dana said she made the best Sloppy-Joes EVER.  Simon disagreed.  Thus the epic battle of the sloppy-joe was born.  What a night!  I feel like there needs to be a play by play in pictures.  So here it goes:

Dana - our first competitor.  Secret ingredient? Lots of hot sauce.

Simon - our second competitor.  Secret ingredient? Lamb.  And JD.

John-Paul and Julie: an action shot of two of the sloppy-joe taste testers.  

Sadie, Dana, and Simon anxiously awaiting the deciding vote from the runner up in the Freebirds burrito eating contest of 2001, and Fat Tire's personal restaurant critic...

THE Michael J. Franz.

Winner = Simon.  (But as a side note - the next day, Franz regretted this decision.)  Sloppy-Joe Off = Success. 

Not to mention Simon and Lauren have an incredible sunglasses collection.

And the metro ride back home was quite exciting as well.

So that's my life at the moment.  Rain.  Silly Frenchies.  and Food.  Life is good.