She made sure that me and my neighbor made peace. We now like each other and I respect him. I wiil go into more detail Tuesday.
Five bonus points for anyone who gets the circa 1978 reference of the headline.
So, Halloween is always epic and interesting in Montpellier. Mostly, because unlike other places it's not amature hour with a bunch of former sorority girls dressing up like sexy nurses and trying to give lipstick enemas to any boy dressed as Marshal Mathers (if you are over 35 get a young person to explain this shady reference to you).
Instead it's the professional drunks putting on weird half assed sort of costumes and doing their best to embalm themselves.
For example, in Montpellier wearing a funny hat is considered: "Oh my god, that is the best costume I've ever seen!"
The main thing is that things in Montpellier are so much the same from one day to the next that we have to embrace any day that gives us any difference.
Of course, this can be dangerous. After one halloween here several years ago I WOKE UP IN HEATHROW AIRPORT. Fuck knows how that happened, but I'm guessing it involved some alcohol.
Anyway, my most recent Samhain (sp?) was not quite that dramatic, but it was close.
It started out on sort of a down note when the only client I have on retainer asked if she could go back to a pay per project thing. This isn't awful becasue the last time I had her on pay as you go I made more than the retainer. It just sucks because I've made a habit of using her retainer to pay the rent and she told me about this on the 31st of the month.
This was clearly a sign to start drinking.
So, I head out and all the costume shops are closed because the French don't really like to work and it was raining and a Monday so why not close early. Walked over to Fitzpatrick's mad at the world, ran into The Blonde Drag Queen who decided I needed All Hallow's Eve make up.
She did a fucking wonderful job making me up as Boy George If He Was A Vampire and I went over to the Bulgarian Whore House where Rome Girl works to show it off. It turns out that I looked exactly like an evil man from one of Rome Girl's childhood nightmares.
Fuckity, fuck, fuck fuck! This day was off to a bad start. Clearly more alcohol was needed.
Did a bunch of drinks at Fitz, lost about $15 bucks in backgammon to The Fuller Brush Man and got Rome Girl drunk enough to not care about my make up.
Headed off to Big Dave's for more booze, tapas (Pretentious EU finger food), scary music and dancing to Sympathy For The Devil and Marilyn Manson's "The Dope Show."
Got texted by Miss Darling to get my ass back to Fitz because she wasn't ready for Big Dave's yet. Since I am Miss Darling's personal slave we made like shade up the hill back to Lurch's domain.
Once there with drinks in hand Miss Darling introduced me to one of her friends. Said friend was wearing a short skirt that flashed her lacy white panties at us every time she moved. I commented on this to Miss Darling who told me that the girl was self consious because she thought she had ugly Bridget Jones panties on. (If you are male get a female to explain this reference to you.)
Of course I then started telling the girl how hot her panties were and got her to show me more of them. Not to be outdone Miss Darling then lifted her skirt up and showed the bar how well shaved her pussy is.
"Now things are looking up," I thought.
Suddenly a guy I had not seen in three years walked up to me and said, "Hi, Bart." Started talking to this guy who now lives in London about some of the drunken adventures we had several years ago.
"Do you remember the time you fucked that girl on top of the bar," I asked.
"Yeah," he said. "I'm engaged to her now."
He then pointed at Sexy White Panty Girl!
At this point Miss Darling gets an idee fixe that we have to head over to the Bar Where My Neighbor Works and make peace with him. I flat out tell her to go fuck herself but she lays the big trump card on me:
"Come to fuckin Sweet Carolina (not the bar's real name) or I'm not going with you to Harry Potter next month, you drunken shithead coward."
Head on over and I walk up to the bar waving a 50 euro note in search of drinks.
"Guiness tastes as sweet as breakin a one legged man's legs," someone says to me in obvious reference to my entry about the Neighbor and I almost piss my pants.
Lurch's brother who owns Sweet Carolina came up to me and said "You really think these people are going to serve you after your blog?"
I appologized and explained about Miss Darling and string theory and the best way to eat Oreos and Lurch's brother brought the Neighbor over made us shake hands and say mutual "sorry" and got me a pint.
You don't want to know how close I was to shitting my pants during this entire practice.
Before I know it it's bar closing time and Rome Girl and I head outside to wait for Miss Darling, Old Friend and Sexy White Panty Girl.
Neighbor then walks up to me and my asshole clenches up tight.
"Dude, want to talk," he asks.
We then have a five minute conversation where he admits that he had at times intentionally provoked me, I admit that he has been much more quiet the last couple of weeks. He appologizes to me, I appologize to him and we agree to meet up for drinks at some point.
FUCK YOU MISS DARLING WHY ARE YOU ALWAYS FUCKING RIGHT? ONE DAY I WANT TO BE RIGHT AND I WANT YOU TO BE WRONG.
At this point Rome Girl heads home to pass out and me and Miss Darling and assorted drunks head back to Big Dave's for a few more drinks because his bar had a late license. I try to get Miss Darling and Sexy White Panty girl to come back to my place and attempt to seduce Rome Girl but everyone decides they are too tired to attempt orgasm.
Woke up with kitten sleeping in my arms.