Bacchanalian Reveling (Okay, not really)

Ah, another Saturday night spent wandering around Toulouse with random French people. Izzi and I have gotten really good at that.

Izzi leaves France for good next Saturday, so we decided to go out this weekend. We have tried going out a few times now, and we have never actually set foot in a single nightclub, even when we have a specific place in mind to go. We thought maybe we’d have better luck (and more fun, besides) if we invited everyone we know here in France. That is a grand total of three people, one of whom already had plans.

I shouldn’t really complain, because we actually had a very good day and a relatively entertaining night. We started by going to the Musée des Augustins (convent turned museum), which was pretty nice. Our group consisted of Izzi, me, Laurent (French guy), and Sarah (British au pair). They had some sculptures, lots of paintings, and several grave stones and covers. Highlights for me were a creepy sculpture called Cauchemar (nightmare) and a sculpture of a guy who looked remarkably like Vince Noir from The Mighty Boosh. There was also a really huge, imposing sculpture of a bishop or priest of some sort who looked like he was going to crack your skull open with a crucifix. Scary! (Sorry for the fuzzy pics; no flash allowed.)

Izzi, Sarah, and I then spent the rest of the day chillin’ downtown. In the evening, we met up with Jascha (German male au pair who replaced my sister). Sarah had to wake up early this morning to go on an archeological dig (sweet!), so she couldn’t come out clubbing with us, but the four of us hung out, drank beers (not me) and chatted at Izzi’s until nearly 1am. We had decided to go to a nightclub down the street from Izzi’s house, but Jascha wanted to get drinks in a pub first. Thus commenced the night of wandering, though Jascha made sure that it was very purposeful wandering. After wandering for a while, Jascha approached a lone French guy to ask about good places to go. The guy took us to one place, then changed his mind and took us to another club. Jascha still wanted to go to a pub to fill up on semi-cheap drinks, so we left random French guy, vowing to return. The wandering began again, until Jascha approached a large group of young French people and asked for pub recommendations. They told us to come with them, and we walked across half of Toulouse (we had already walked across the other half at this point) to an empty bar where one of the French guys bought a bottle of shots. There was roughly 30 shots-worth of booze in this bottle, and he very generously shared with everyone in the group. He was really cute and flirting with me (yay!) but apparently slightly crazy, and possibly bi-sexual. His friend, who was pissed (in the British context, not the American, thus “drunk” and not “angry”) got up on stage, pulled down his pants and underwear, and started jumping up and down. Then Hot Flirty Guy joined him. I’m an innocent, naïve little thing, so I turned the other direction and pretended nothing was happening.

They then led us to a near-by pub that was packed with people where Hot Flirty Guy seemed to know the bouncer. I was following him in when Izzi grabbed my arm and dragged me back out. Apparently Jascha had completely forgotten about the beer in his hand, which pissed the bouncer off. He dumped out Jascha’s beer and refused to let him in. Izzi and I weren’t gonna ditch him, but Hot Flirty Guy insisted that he had to hang out in this pub for at least 15 minutes. He tried to bargain with the bouncer to let Jascha in, then he tried to bargain with us. He told us to go to another pub for 15 minutes, then meet him outside and we’d all go to a nightclub and dance the morning away. We agreed (sort of), so he left and Izzi and Jascha managed to convince slightly tipsy me that the guy was not hot enough to overlook his craziness and exhibitionism. I’m kind of worried about the fact that I didn’t recognize that he was a weirdo. Thank goodness for Izzi. Anyway, it was half past three in the morning, so we gave up entirely on the club scene and went home.

So. We have been trying to go out to a club in Toulouse since Izzi’s birthday in February, and it simply was not meant to be. Izzi and I were not meant to go clubbing in this town. Alas. All in all, though, I was pleased with the night because 1) I got flirted with by a hottie (granted, he was odd), 2) I got several yummy, fruity shots for free, 3) I got out of the house, 4) I hung out with Izzi, and 5) I didn’t spend a dime, which is good, because I didn’t have any. I was borrowing money from Izzi (who rocks, by the way!) and I was able to give it all back to her at the end of the night. Oh, and 6) I got to know Sarah and Jascha better, so hopefully I’ll still have people to hang out with when Izzi’s gone.

Random French weirdness: According to Hot Flirty Guy (who was totally rocking a pink t-shirt, by the way), it is French tradition for the man to sit on the woman’s knee, and not the other way around. He told me this as he sat on my lap. Um, okay, whatever. You’re cute.

Photos: Cauchemar and Vince Noir-esque dude