Drunken Expat Writer

So, when I was at the Vert Anglais last night my doctor came up to me. This is not unusual - he hangs out in the bars and cafes in town and is known to just have a drink and chat with his patients.

Anyway, what was unusual was that he told me that he's retiring Sept. 1 and wanted to introduce me to the man who is taking over his practice. It seems he'd been doing this all day - dragging the new doctor from cafe to cafe and store to store and introducing him to the people he's been treating for the last 50 years or so.

The new doctor seems nice - but he looks to be in his late 20s/maybe early 30s and resembles Trey Anestasio. This will be the first time I've ever had a doctor who is younger than me and who has a long ponytail.

The doctor introduced himself as "Benjamin" and didn't provide a last name. As several of my doctor's patients were at the Vert Anglais he sat down and had a beer and lit up a Camel with all of us. He wanted to assure us that just like our current doctor he intended to hang around the bars and cafes in the afternoon and evenings just to keep an eye on us and make sure the people in his little neck of the woods are doing OK.

Sharing a beer and smoking a cigarette with my soon to be new doctor really made me appreciate living where I live. It also reminded me that while Montpellier is a huge city, Centre Ville, where I live, is really a small village. And being the doctor in Centre Ville is essentially like being the town doctor in a small town in America.

And I think that's a good thing. Taking care of patients shouldn't just be about looking them over when they walk in the door. It should be about being a part of your community and making sure everyone is OK.

Lately everyone has been talking about different health care plans and what's good and what's bad and should the government be involved and what about freedom and will health care decline and all sorts of shit.

In that argument we seem to forget that it all comes down to people. No matter what system you have if your doctor isn't part of your community your standard of care will suffer. If he or she does want to be a part of your community your standard of care will soar.

Instead of arguing the pros and cons of different economic models I'd rather have an argument about how to get doctors out of their offices and really know their patients as people.

When Rome Girl and I were walking around town today she wanted to see where The Bear Cave is - because she and the dirty baker used to go drinking on that side street.

I showed her and it turns out it's next door to the bar she used to drink at.

"I guess we'll have to be careful of which one we go into if we are pissed," she said.

"Well," I responded. "The Bear Cave says "Men Only" so you wouldn't have to really worry. They'd let you know."

"True," she said.

"That said," I replied,"for fun you guys could put on fake beards and try to go in and claim that you are both transvestite bears."

"Transvestite bears," she laughed. "Does that even exist?"

"I don't know," I replied. "Perhaps we've stumbled upon the one perversion yet to be created by man. I'll google it when I go home."

And, you know what, I couldn't find a single porn site devoted to bears who are also transvestites.

Does this mean I've broken a fundamental rule of the Internet?

You know good marketing is sometimes so simple.

For example, within about two blocks of the Vert Anglais there are about four take out places I can hit up if I don't feel like going home and cooking.

Of them all, I tend to hit Subway most often - not because it's the best food.

Rather I do so because a few months ago the girl who works there at night noticed I had cat hair on my jacket. And she asked me if I'd like to bring a little scoop of tuna home to my cat with my sandwich.

She didn't charge me for it - and honestly it was just a third of an ice cream scoop of tuna - but now if I see her there I always choose that Subway over all the other options.

And to this day - including tonight - she still gives me the little container of tuna for squirt. It probably costs the company very little, but just in the past six months alone they've gotten hundreds if not thousands of dollars of my business because of it.

And that's more effective than any ad they could ever produce.

Hey,

Are you an Erasmus student who just got to Montpellier, France, last week? Tired of your host family or room mates? Want to get drunk, laid or both?

Then tonight is the night you want to come to the Vert Anglais - the best English speaking bar in Montpellier. From 6 p.m. until closing, beer is cheap on Monday nights! It's only three euros for a pint! Half pints are also cheaper but I have no idea how cheap because I wouldn't be caught dead drinking a half pint.

You'll find other people your age there. Swedish girls, hot bar men, drunk people with breasts, drunk people with penises! Clean bathrooms!

It's right behind Virgin Records in centre ville! Just look for the green awning and tell them the Drunk Ex Pat Writer sent you!

Random photos I found on my phone from this summer taken at the Vert Anglais bar in Montpellier, France. Including real live lesbians kissing!

Hey boys and girls - I know there are a lot of new students in town tonight. So I want to welcome all you crazy expat students to Montpellier France.

I hope that at some point between drinking, dancing and drugging you get time to study this year. (It's true, I once knew a student in this town who learned French. I felt like buying him an "I Am Legend" T-shirt.)

But, assuming you are like most of the English, American, Irish and Aussie students who turn up in Montpellier every September to hit the three Ds far away from your parents and peers back home, I figured I might as well throw you a tip - Monday night is half price all night happy hour at the Vert Anglais in Centre Ville Montpellier each and every week.

Starting at 6 p.m. you can turn up and drink beer for much less than anywhere else and keep drinking until 2 a.m. if you've got the stamina.

The bar is just behind Virgin Records and has a large green awning.

It's where almost all the English speakers in town drink and is also good if you have any questions about French culture, opening a bank account, looking for room mates or trying to get laid.

A brief note to the American student girls looking to hook up in Montpellier: EU guys have foreskin.

Every fall at least two or three girls end up in the bar complaining when they discover that EU cocks don't look like the other cocks they have encountered in their lives.

Some girls don't care either way. Some like the extra bit of skin, but there are always a few who think it looks or smells nasty.

So, my advice for you is to drink a little bit more than usual before you see the skin of your first EU hookup - so you'll have the courage to confront that extra inch in a pinch!

Also girls, during your first few weeks here your gaydar will probably be set off a lot - and then you'll be surprised when the guy hits on you anyway.

That's because straight French men look dress and act like gay American guys, so don't be fooled. Just because he has nice clean clothes, uses moisturizer, dances with other guys and prances instead of walks doesn't make him gay - it makes him Euro!

So welcome to Montpellier France new students!

We can't wait to meet you!

Ed Ward blogging about how good Rome Girl's cooking is and how much he likes my local pub.

I believe in fairness. Therefore, since I laid on the snark with Things French People Like I figure it's only fair to turn the tables and write about Things Ex Pats Like.

I'm all for the equality of snark.

1. Spending more money on alcohol each month than you do on your rent.

2. Bitching about the native population of whatever country you are in.

3. Finding ways to put off paying your bills.

4. Going to therapy.

5. English language book shops.

6. Films in English.

7. Peanut butter.

8. Comparing the different ways people say things in the U.S., the UK, Australia and New Zealand. (I've yet to figure out what "Bob's your uncle" means.)

9. Cocaine.

10. Talking about how fucked up you were/whether or not you puked the night before.

11. Being surprised by local holidays.

12. Complaining about how the natives don't work that hard - even if it's a Tuesday and you've been drinking with your friends since 1 p.m.

13. Finding teaching jobs.

14. The French health care system.

15. Bitching about pigeons - as though they couldn't possibly be as many in New York, London or Sydney.

16. Trying to guess if the new people hanging out in the bar are American or Canadian.

17. Family visits - because you know your parents will take you out to dinner.

18. Bartenders.

19. Gossip

20. New ex pats to gossip about.

Since the lovely Rome Girl just did a post on Things Italian People Like I figured I'd do a list of Things French People Like.

Fear the snark. Also, if you are in France feel free to add to this list.

1. Small pink beers. Really.

2. The phrase "Pas possible."

3. Waiting in line at the grocery store behind 15 street bums buying one beer each.

4. Going on strike.

5. Going on break.

6. Sitting in a bar or cafe for three hours alone at a table for four and ordering exactly one drink.

7. Stopping randomly in the middle of the street/sidewalk for no apparent reason.

8. Eating parts of animals that no one else in the civilized world would even consider.

9. Reminding you that French fries are really from Belgium.

10. Complaining.

11. Dressing like a gay man even if you are straight.

12. Foreskin!

13. Lifetime employment.

14. Hashish.

15. Rap/reggae music.

16. Bringing dogs into any and every business establishment.

17. Asking random people on the street for a cigarette.

18. Wearing T-shirts for sports they neither play nor watch.

19. Out of date American pop/rock bands.

20. Bitching about Arabs/Gypsies/Americans/Brits etc...

See my belly roar!

Someone on Gawker the other day asked me How does one become a drunken expat writer?"

It occured to me that many of you may have the same question. So, here you go:

1. You quit your job working for Gannett when you realize that every boss at Gannett is a total tool. You kick yourself for taking 10 years to come to this realization.

2. You make sure Gannett gives you some cash when you leave so you have money for airfare, vodka and the deposit on a new apartment. Most of this money will be spent on drinks at 4 a.m. at dirty smoky clubs while you try to integrate yourself with the expat community.

3. You sign up for elance.com and start getting some freelance gigs. You quickly become shocked at how much work Indian writers will do for two bucks.

4. You learn how to say "I'm sorry, I'll have the rent next week" in French (knowing that it's illegal in France to evict you unless you are nine months behind on your rent.) This phrase, along with "Pas Possible" will become the only French you ever really need to know.

5. You practice new and creative excuses for when you are behind on your freelance gigs because drinking, fucking or doing coke seemed to make more sense than writing eBay ads on that particular day.

6. You learn to ignore the vast numbers of ways your family will ask you "When are you going to rehab?" and "When are you going to come home and get a real job?"

7. You try pastis because it's the local drink and it's dirt cheap. After about a week you realize it's so gross that only alcoholic pig farmers would ever drink it on a regular basis. This does not stop you from drinking it when you are broke.

8. You throw away your alarm clock because you will never need it again.

9. Voilla! You are now a drunken expat writer!

Wednesday night the Vert Anglais is hosting "Secret Singles Night!"

Everyone who comes in will get a number to put on their chest.

Then your secret admirers will have the chance to hand the God of Romance an anonymous note to send to you!

They can either give you their own number or else just tell you how beautiful or handsome they think you are while remaining incongnito!

Better still happy hour with three euro pints is in effect from 9 p.m. to 10 p.m. so you can build up your drunken courage!

All in all it's a night where you can drink cheap and get your sweet ass laid!

So, put down that iPod, shave your legs and trim your nose hair and get your ass down to the Vert Anglais.

The libido you save may be your own!

Tonight was a full feast of friends at the Vert Anglais, even though it was one of the rare nights when The Stingles were playing instead of The Waves.

But it was a good night because we had Hippy IT Boy, both parts of Woody Allen Reference, the Non Jewish Carpenter, Chip and Chip's Dad and various other assorted happy drunks with us.

The Stingles policy is that they mostly play songs by either Sting or the Beatles. Since I hate both Sting and the Beatles it is a huge compliment to their charm and personality that I'm happy to watch them anyway.

Plus, they did vary their repertoire a bit and played "Hotel California" and "Enter Sandman."

They also played "Faith" by George Michael. And by doing so confirmed a feeling I've had for several years.

That is, that "Faith" when played by George Michael or any other seriously professional band is awful pop shit.

But... when played by any type of bar band that isn't professional is the greatest song ever played. There is something about "Faith" that makes the song sound better the less professional you are.

Over the last 10 years or so I've heard it played by metal bands, ska bands, 80s cover bands, fuckwit asshole bands and whatever. And the rule of thumb is that the worse the band is at playing any other song, the better "Faith" sounds when they play it.

Then we got into the "Gak Discussion."

This discussion is based on twain saying a couple weeks ago that "Gak" is what people in the UK call cocaine.

Both Members of Woody Allen Film Reference (who are very, very English) told me tonight that they'd seen twain say that and they disagree. They suspect that "gak" is a regional usage and that in most of the UK there would be different terms for it ("Charlie" is the one that makes the most sense to them.) They assure me that no fellow English person they have ever met has ever used the term "Gak" to refer to cocaine.


Which leads me to the point of this post:

1. If you are English is "gak" what you would call cocaine?

2. If not, what would you call it?

3. If you are UK have you ever heard "Gak" before?

4. No matter if you are UK or USA what do you think is the best slang term for "cocaine."

5. One of my friends calls cocaine, "Blond Ambiation." Does this make him cool or a dork?

Was back at Vert Anglais tonight for the Thursday night band night of The Waves.

For the first time in three weeks both halves of Woody Allen Film Reference were there.

Along the way we got into a discussion about this guy they know.

The heart of the discussion involves two facts about him:

1. He's the most polite guy anyone has ever seen.

2. His girlfriend wants to remain a virgin until marriage, so they only have anal sex.

This led to a debate: "How the fuck do you have polite anal sex?"

Do you say "Excuse me, can I shove my cock up your shitter?"

I mean isn't the whole point of anal sex that it's somewhat rude? And wouldn't you almost need to spank her ass and say rude things to her while you were doing it? Otherwise, what's the point?

Think about it.

You have to get out a bottle of lube. Then you have to finger the ass with the lube. Then you have to lube up your cock. Then you have to ease it in and hope you don't hit a "turtle" (the porn slang term for a turd that would block full entry.)

Finally you are balls deep in her ass, but she's convinced you are not "fucking" because your dick isn't in her vajayjay. But you are probably playing with her clit, assuming you are a guy who like gives a shit about her cumming before you splooge.

And then you cum inside her and she has an orgasm but you are both convinced she is still a virgin.

What a lot of fucking effort when there is a self lubricating hole like two inches away.

Anyway the conversation then denigrated to the point where I was telling them about the Tony Blair press secretary who I once did a dirty weekend with who then sent me a pair of her panties from 10 Downing Street with a compliments slip from Tony Blair. (If you are American just google "compliments slip")

Then they were telling me how hard it is in France to find a boy who just wants to fuck and will then go the fuck away, because every French boy assumes you are like mated for life the second you touch his dick.

There's more, but all in all it was a night of all of us getting nicely drunk, listening to a good band, being in a great bar, and just venting about our sexual histories.

And, that's fun.

Particularly with two cute blond babes.

No question about it - last night was the best birthday ever.

I got pleasantly drunk, but not so much that I did anything embarrassing or that I regret. Spent most of the night hanging out with The Texas Gay, Miss Darling, both halves of Woody Allen Film Reference, The Dirty Baker, Belgium Boy, The Iceman, Texas Gay's Husband and The Iceman's Son.

The bar comped my tab at the end of the night - which is astonishing given how much I drank.

Rome Girl sang with The Waves - who were in great form. For the first time ever she sang "Thunder Road" which got a standing ovation - even though almost no one in the crowd had heard it before. She also got total thumbs up for "Nothing Else Matters."

The band themselves did a kicking version of "Enter Sandman" that they dedicated to me.

Rome Girl says she wants me to stress that she is laughing and not in pain during the singing photo.

The Gay Guide To Montpellier

This Thursday I'm celebrating my birthday at The Vert Anglais, starting around 8 p.m. or so.

The Waves are playing - and Rome Girl will be singing at least one if not more songs with them!

Happy Hour begins at 9 - so if you show up then you can buy me drinks without busting your budget. How much fun does that sound??

There are always a lot of cute girls at the Vert Anglais on Thursday nights - and most of them appear to be single!

So you can get drunk with me, listen to a cool band and try to get laid - all in one convenient Centre Ville Montpellier location!