Whoa pony, I'm behind on my posts! Last week my Hot Blonde Cousin from London trekked over to Paris to visit and be ridiculous... per usual... We booked tickets in advance to see the John Butler Trio at the Olympia Music Hall, a place I had been to once before, oddly enough to see another Australian-associated band years ago. Not being overly familiar with this band, I was totally game to give it a go and have a good time. We took our overpriced beers into the orchestra which was similar to being a groundling in the yard of Shakespeare's Globe. I was rather concerned at one point when people started sitting down on the floor behind us between the opening and main acts. I felt pretty certain that, had a riot broken out (you never know) we would instantly be stampeded to death, and I was meticulously plotting my exit strategy (which legs to jump over, which faces to avoid crushing) until the lights went down again. Happily, people wised up at that time and stood up with us smarter mortals. I didn't particularly dislike the music, but as my back began giving me trouble and the songs seemed to grow longer and longer, I admit I began the uncomfortable process of wanting to throw things at the stage so that they would stop indulgently riffing for what seemed like hours during songs. I am a fan of watching live jazz so I don't usually have an issue with musicians showing off their skills, but let's just say, I think anyone who names their band after themselves has more than a little egocentrism going on.
That being said, once the concert was over, we made our way to a bar called "L'Urgence" to reenact a moment from our first Parisian adventure almost three years ago. At that time, we had gone to a bar in a different area of town and had our first experience with drinking cocktails out of baby bottles. That bar's theme was games and cartoons, demanding that you order your cocktail by drawing a picture of said beverage (all named after cartoons) on a wipe board. Once you receive your drink you are required to play board games at your table. This other bar, however, has an entirely medical theme. The cocktails all have saucy medicinal names, there are syringes in the table tops, x-rays on the bar, and you can either have cocktails in baby bottles or shots in test tubes. I have yet to fully comprehend why Paris has an obsession with alcohol in infantilized drinking vessels, but #1) I think it appropriately amusing and absurd slash #2) I am totally happy to continue jumping on this ridiculous bandwagon.
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