Got off fantastic business-class flight in Paris. Called Guilhem. No answer. Kind of worried I won't find anywhere to sleep tonight. Unsure how I'll meet people here. Gonna try to pick up women, doubt it'll work, though I am feeling very careless and free.
I called another friend of a friend, but he said he's working til 3 a.m. so I shouldn't stay with him, but he'll be home by 5 if I need it. People are so nice. I need to make an effort to remember to be nice to strangers.
At baggage claim, saw a computer w/15 min of free internet. Checked email to discover a 21 year old Parisienne wrote back saying I can stay with her all week except tonight, though if I really need to I can stay with her friend. Didn't miss anything else on the internet, maybe I'll bail on that place someday.
Decided to just go to Menilmontant since that's where the venue I'm playing at tomorrow is. In the airport subway station, I saw a woman struggling to get her bag down the stairs. I offered to help and she repeated "tu es tres gentille," but instead of taking this as an opportunity to make a friend, I shyly walked to another subway car. I wish I'd talked to her longer. It'd have felt cheap though. Unsure how to meet people since I only want to to get laid or find a place to crash. Really weird realizing what human connection feels like, for it's own sake, and how that's where both conformity and inner peace come from. I hope this lasts.
At end of train ride I tried talking to her more but she was a typical guarded Frenchwoman, including the fact that she chose to speak English instead of let me continue to use my broken French.
I walked around Menilmontant, a neighborhood in Paris, in the rain, for a while. I found the venue where a friend of a friend told me there's an English open-mic tonight. Nothing happening yet there. Went to a liquor store and pretended to consider buying booze. Asked if I could drink it on the street and the guy said no. I told him I'm homeless so I can't drink it anywhere else, then asked if I could put my raincoat on in there. He said sure. I wandered around aimlessly for a bit longer before I walked back to the payphone and called Guilhem again, no answer.
I stood there, reflecting on my situation. I'm cold, tired, and lonely but OK with that, but I'm not prepared to sleep on the street.
Right after I wrote that, the payphone rang. It was Guilhem telling me to come to his bar, pick up the keys, and go do laundry at his place! I walked up the huge hill to his bar, got the keys, and saw this amazing flyer:
then walked back, right past a bunch of hardcore show flyers on a wall. I walked in the shitty-ass wooden door where a bearded frenchman asked if I was looking for something. I said "what is this place?" and he said "a squat." I asked what shows they're having and he said black metal tonight. I asked what other shows they're having and he said he didn't know. I said I don't like metal really. Later I realized he was probably in the black metal band and was offended. I asked another guy about shows there and he said punk on Friday and Saturday. I stimmed with delight as I left. I walked an hour to save 1 Euro for a subway ticket, poor decision since my bag was really heavy and it was raining, and Guilhem lives on a 6th floor walkup. I did laundry and sat, wondering what time it was.
I truly have been living a pre-technology lifestyle, relying on the sun to guess the hour.
At some arbitrary point I left and walked past a "biologique," which sold vegan frozen hot dogs called "weenies"
Due to hilarity, I bought and ate the entire pack raw, on the way to the open mic. Imagined asking the French audience "Aimez-vous les weenies?" When I got there, the basement was sweltering due to being completely filled with non-French people performing entirely in English. It was weirdly comforting. I was ready for something incredibly difficult but this was too easy. Most of the performances were good though, a rarity for any open mic.
I tried to make a friend by offering a woman room on the amp I'd sat on but she said "will it make me feel less claustrophobic" then proceeded to breathe heavily every 2 minutes. Made me nervous til she left.
I talked to this guy who seemed like he was trying to pick me up, but I only wanted a friend. Helped me understand how hard it must be to be a woman. Then I sang "Why Aren't I Famous," slapping my thighs so hard they were covered in bruises afterwards. I started the set saying I didn't know anyone at all and wanted to make friends. The audience exclaimed "You are famous now!" and then the show ended. I thought that'd mean I made a ton of friends all of a sudden. I stood around talking to nice Americans who asked about my upcoming gig and told me they'd come, til most of them had left or ignored me so I was about to leave when this 20 year-old Indian-American girl asked where I was going and told me to stay. She'd played a good song she wrote on kalimba. We hung out and she told me all about Paris. She walked me around the streets at 3 a.m. and we shared her umbrella for 2 hours. She lives across from the world's funniest hotel:
I was cold and wet and said I was going home. She told me to meet her again. I said come to my show. I could tell she wanted us to be each other's romantic Paris experience. I did not go for it this evening, but walked home singing "J'aime Paris Au Mois de Mai as I passed the weird mannequins in the store windows:
I called another friend of a friend, but he said he's working til 3 a.m. so I shouldn't stay with him, but he'll be home by 5 if I need it. People are so nice. I need to make an effort to remember to be nice to strangers.
At baggage claim, saw a computer w/15 min of free internet. Checked email to discover a 21 year old Parisienne wrote back saying I can stay with her all week except tonight, though if I really need to I can stay with her friend. Didn't miss anything else on the internet, maybe I'll bail on that place someday.
Decided to just go to Menilmontant since that's where the venue I'm playing at tomorrow is. In the airport subway station, I saw a woman struggling to get her bag down the stairs. I offered to help and she repeated "tu es tres gentille," but instead of taking this as an opportunity to make a friend, I shyly walked to another subway car. I wish I'd talked to her longer. It'd have felt cheap though. Unsure how to meet people since I only want to to get laid or find a place to crash. Really weird realizing what human connection feels like, for it's own sake, and how that's where both conformity and inner peace come from. I hope this lasts.
At end of train ride I tried talking to her more but she was a typical guarded Frenchwoman, including the fact that she chose to speak English instead of let me continue to use my broken French.
I walked around Menilmontant, a neighborhood in Paris, in the rain, for a while. I found the venue where a friend of a friend told me there's an English open-mic tonight. Nothing happening yet there. Went to a liquor store and pretended to consider buying booze. Asked if I could drink it on the street and the guy said no. I told him I'm homeless so I can't drink it anywhere else, then asked if I could put my raincoat on in there. He said sure. I wandered around aimlessly for a bit longer before I walked back to the payphone and called Guilhem again, no answer.
I stood there, reflecting on my situation. I'm cold, tired, and lonely but OK with that, but I'm not prepared to sleep on the street.
Right after I wrote that, the payphone rang. It was Guilhem telling me to come to his bar, pick up the keys, and go do laundry at his place! I walked up the huge hill to his bar, got the keys, and saw this amazing flyer:
then walked back, right past a bunch of hardcore show flyers on a wall. I walked in the shitty-ass wooden door where a bearded frenchman asked if I was looking for something. I said "what is this place?" and he said "a squat." I asked what shows they're having and he said black metal tonight. I asked what other shows they're having and he said he didn't know. I said I don't like metal really. Later I realized he was probably in the black metal band and was offended. I asked another guy about shows there and he said punk on Friday and Saturday. I stimmed with delight as I left. I walked an hour to save 1 Euro for a subway ticket, poor decision since my bag was really heavy and it was raining, and Guilhem lives on a 6th floor walkup. I did laundry and sat, wondering what time it was.
I truly have been living a pre-technology lifestyle, relying on the sun to guess the hour.
At some arbitrary point I left and walked past a "biologique," which sold vegan frozen hot dogs called "weenies"
Due to hilarity, I bought and ate the entire pack raw, on the way to the open mic. Imagined asking the French audience "Aimez-vous les weenies?" When I got there, the basement was sweltering due to being completely filled with non-French people performing entirely in English. It was weirdly comforting. I was ready for something incredibly difficult but this was too easy. Most of the performances were good though, a rarity for any open mic.
I tried to make a friend by offering a woman room on the amp I'd sat on but she said "will it make me feel less claustrophobic" then proceeded to breathe heavily every 2 minutes. Made me nervous til she left.
I talked to this guy who seemed like he was trying to pick me up, but I only wanted a friend. Helped me understand how hard it must be to be a woman. Then I sang "Why Aren't I Famous," slapping my thighs so hard they were covered in bruises afterwards. I started the set saying I didn't know anyone at all and wanted to make friends. The audience exclaimed "You are famous now!" and then the show ended. I thought that'd mean I made a ton of friends all of a sudden. I stood around talking to nice Americans who asked about my upcoming gig and told me they'd come, til most of them had left or ignored me so I was about to leave when this 20 year-old Indian-American girl asked where I was going and told me to stay. She'd played a good song she wrote on kalimba. We hung out and she told me all about Paris. She walked me around the streets at 3 a.m. and we shared her umbrella for 2 hours. She lives across from the world's funniest hotel:
I was cold and wet and said I was going home. She told me to meet her again. I said come to my show. I could tell she wanted us to be each other's romantic Paris experience. I did not go for it this evening, but walked home singing "J'aime Paris Au Mois de Mai as I passed the weird mannequins in the store windows:
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