Weeks 7 & 8

As Paris becomes routine, weeks fly by incessantly,
Not that they’re monotonous-but they’re nondescript to me.
It takes someone or something special to affect my week,
Otherwise it’s just another seven days in the capital of chic.
But lucky as I am I keep busy and entertained,
Nights out til 5 am leave me feeling pretty drained.
But an altogether different kind of night was enjoyed,
When my mother came to see one of her three favourite boys.
It was just a flying visit but it was just enough for me,
It was exactly what I needed to see some family.
We only had an evening but we made the best of it,
We watched the Eiffel tower dazzle, which really was the shit !
Every hour on the hour the Eiffel tower sparkles,
Pissheads probably think they’ve lost some, if not all, their marbles
But for ten minutes every hour, when the sky grows black,
The famous rusty sculpture pulls a rabbit from its hat.
A classy little trick that really hits the mark,
The massive ugly structure looks stunning in the dark
Now that last line might work well when used about the Eifel Tower
But i’ve tried it on a bird and my slapped cheek was raw for hours !
Mum and I shared a tasty meal that was typically French
The food was matched only by the waitress- a tasty bit of wench.
In the absence of my mother my diet’s pretty lame,
My enthusiasm lacking, my imagination tame.
Lucky for me the girls I know only live for food
It is their ‘raison d’être’ and i’ve been rather shrewd
I get round Amy’s for tea time and stuff my gut with munch
I get round hers for lunch time, breakfast and Sunday brunch.
We’ve eaten salmon and lasagne- the latter made from scratch
Plenty of fruit & veg mean scurvy’s something I won’t catch.
Musically lots to report on, including a new venue,
In a rough area of Paris that’s dangerous but attractive too !
At the familiar Showcase I saw some average bands
The dance floor was full of all their rowdy fans,
We saw a band from Paris-they covered ‘Cameo’
Who’s quality tune ‘word up’ should have been left alone.
But nevertheless the ‘Jukebox Club’ didn’t do too bad
They were better than ‘The Devices’ who used a cymbal and drum pad,
The American duo came on stage and simply shouted ‘merde’
Confirming my belief Americans should not be seen nor heard.
The night grew old, the hours passed and I went home to bed,
Knowing that my music hopes would be fulfilled next week instead.
The following week was M.A.N.D.Y. at the Elysée Montmartre
The line-up was pretty special the dress code wasn’t smart
The Presets had the energy, but the crowd had no response
The electro pair seemed about as popular as your average nonse !
Not because they were no good, they were rather accomplished
But due to the height of the ceiling the sound quality diminished
I danced on regardless until my feet felt really sore,
Then I got a second wind and I pounded them some more.
All of this nocturnal activity hasn’t helped my bank
My money has all gone there’s nothing left to spank.
I’m back to being skint, brassic and really tight,
I can’t give up a single cent from morning through til night.
The bank is such a nightmare- i’ve had to change my branch,
Since different regions have different rules throughout the whole of France.
So a branch in Paris is completely seperate from that in Nice,
And I have to pay to set-up a new account- feels like i’m being fleeced!
But perhaps my money situation will change now that I get CAF
A timely bit of pocket money that helps me rent my gaff.
It’s a bit like claiming benefit-for those who live in France,
I’m not sure how much it is but i’m praying silver will cross my palm.
But how much will they give me to subsidise my little flat?
50 euros a month? It can’t be much more than that?
Talking of the legobox it did receive a little visit
Rory’s first words on arriving were simply, ‘is that it’?
But I won’t get upset, the place is enough for me,
For it allows me to carry adventuring in gay Paree!