Birthday Weekend

I’ll start off where I finished that always makes good sense,
If I ended where I started i’d use a different tense !
I’d just spent the weekend at my mothers, being pampered like a king,
Receiving the red carpet treatment and all that type of thing.
With a belly full of good food and a suitcase full of treats,
I said bye to the family for at least a couple of weeks.
My TGV arrived on time and I let the common rabble pass,
Since it was my birthday it was first class for my arse !
But less of that I must be succinct since i’ve got so much to tell ;
A very british contingent spent the weekend raising hell.
Some of my best pals came to Paris to help me celebrate
Although the celebrations that we had were a little late.
My birthday was a Wednesday, the definition of midweek,
But this didn’t get me excited or cause me to lose sleep.
What got my full attention was the arrival of O’Callaghan
As far as birthdays go, i’d rather be with no other man.
He arrived quite late on Tuesday, but not too late for a tour,
Aidan only saw three sights but they made him gasp in awe.
Hotel De Ville and Notre Dame with the Eiffel in the distance,
I’m desperate to memorise these sights and i’ll manage with persistence.
Wednesday was low-key, yet the gallery made a fuss,
Jean-Luc treated the staff by forcing Champers down all of us !
Because it had been three years since my last proper drink,
That champagne made my head heavy and made my whole brain shrink.
I became quite clumsy and now that I reminisce,
I realise I wasn’t tipsy but for a while there I was pissed.
Aidan, Amy and Sophie visited me at lunch,
Off we went for falafel and in the sunshine ate our munch.
When I finally finished work and met the whole gang back at mine,
I realised the cheeky buggers had turned my flat in to a shrine !
A shrine to being 21 with balloons and tasteless banners,
And it looked as if all the effort had taken at least 1 quarter of an hour.
Next we decamped to Amy’s who fixed me up a feast,
A tasty homemade lasagne that took two hours to make at least.
So I tucked in to my meal with some very spcial guests,
Rose turned up with two fellas that I had never met.
But we had a laugh and ate good food and toasted to my health,
I raised a glass and smiled and then thought to myself ;
Shit i’m 21.
Thursday meant arrivals ; Renwick and the Vest,
Two of my very good friends, two of the very best.
Graham arrived so early that he went straight to bed,
Well if you were up at 4 o’clock you’d want to rest your head.
Aidan was out adventuring on a mass crusade for culture,
He finds cultivated bits of flesh and picks at them like a vulture.
Perhaps it’s worth highlighting that last comment is ambiguous
I meant it metaphorically but he loves French women, he does.
Once Vesty had arrived and i’d finished at the gallery,
We got ready at the legobox and I opened stuff addressed to me.
Sentimental gifts that made me want to cry,
But that’s enough of that since i’m a really macho guy.
Laurent Garnier played the hits at Social Club that night,
But what got my attention was Aidan’s paler shade of white.
I laughed the whole night long, I danced a merry dance,
Whilst poor old O’Callaghan didn’t really stand a chance.
I had a dance-off with a gay, a contest that I did win,
While Aidan made a friend which was made of porcelain.
Vest, Graham and I loved every single minute,
Apart from that nasty shock of hearing Aidan vomit.
I tried to be a mate and to look after him,
I’ve always thought when a friend is ill, i’d do the right thing.
But when we were in the toilets I faced a real dilemma,
Go dance to my favourite tune or look after my favourite fella.
Could I ditch my helpless friend-would that be in bad taste ?
In favour of a rave to ‘The man with the red face’ ?
What would you have done, had you been in my shoes?
I shamelessly ditched Aidan for that ‘Crispy bacon’ tune.
When the night calmed down and we returned to the legobox,
The deteroriation of Aidan’s health left us in real shock,
While he stayed by the toilet, we perched out on my ledge,
Taking photos from the windowsill or from the roadside edge.
The fours of us eventually managed to squeeze in to my room,
But with little space there was no option but for Vest and I to spoon.
I know exactly what you’re thinking- is there much more to go ?
I’m afraid we’re only halfway through, just to let you know !
Friday was not an early start- no danger of that.
But finally we moved ourselves and got out of the flat.
Sadly Aidan had to go - not feeling his best,
His stomach was still throwing up what he tried to digest.
Now that we were Aidanless we went off to see some sights,
We went up Tour Montparnasse, all 59 flights.
Yeah we had a look and saw most of if not all the city,
Yet it was at the Louvre that we saw something far more pretty.
I’m not talking about paintings, which is normally ‘De Rigeur’
But a gorgeous foreign bird who had an amazing figure.
Renwick grabbed his camera but pulled it out too late,
We were left to look at paintings as that stunning bird escaped.
After a quick change we went to Dorny’s for a pre-drink,
And I was in for a surprise from a nutty Bingley bint!
Hudson had previously told me that she wouldn’t be attending
Oh how naive was I ? She had only been pretending.
She turned up with Lilli and there were others too,
Rory, Allchurch & Faulkner completed my birthday crew.
So off we went to Social Club ; same place a different night.
What with Erol on the decks the music was just right.
In fact I shook the geezer’s hand which was so very sweet,
I have touched the king of cool the man behind ‘geek chic’.
But it’s not the music nor the nightclub that will stay with me,
Instead it’s Dorny’s drunken antics that will haunt my memory!
You would have thought that three whole months would have me well prepared,
But the drunken side of Dorny always gets me running scared.
After struggling to stand, it was decided he go home,
However shortly after leaving he ran off on his own.
Two pretty fruitless hours followed as we tried to track him down,
But in his drunken state he didn’t plan on being found.
At seven in the morning once we’d all but given up,
Dorny rang my mobile still well out of his nut.
It seems he’d come to his senses, and was in a taxi home,
I kept asking myself what he’d been doing all alone.
Turns out he’d received a kicking, courtesy of two French men,
Then he made that classic promise, ‘‘I’l never drink again’’
For our part we were knackered but didn’t go back to my box,
Amy Coates had flown to England and left her keys to all us lot.
So we crashed out in luxury with two comfortable beds.
But rather than share with Vest again I slept on the floor instead.
Saturday was another late affair, we didn’t wake till three,
Before heading out for a meal with Hudson and Lilli.
Time was passing quickly, as it does with friends,
Yet when you find yourself alone-time drags and never ends.
With our dancing socks and shoes thoroughly worn out,
We couldn’t hack another night so we stayed in and messed about.
Graham quickly became a hero on the Nintendo Wii,
Brushing aside opponents with little difficulty.
The early night was needed for we had so much planned,
I jumped in bed with Vest my number one spooning man.
I aimed to show the lads parts of Paris I love and adore,
Not the standard tourist traps I dislike and abhor.
We ended up settling for a little bit of both,
The Eiffel followed Jardin du Luxembourg- the bit I love the most.
But midway through the day the lads went really week,
They saw the ‘‘golden arches’’ and craved something to eat.
We’d met up with the girls by now and Anna Naether also,
On entering McDonalds I said ‘‘I can’t believe you’ve sunk so low’’
I pretended to be offended and claimed ‘‘I don’t eat fast food’’
As I watched them eating I regretted my stubborn mood.
After chilling in the jardin on some lovely steel chairs,
We all decided as a group that we should go elsewhere.
What tourist’s trip’s complete without the Eiffel Tower?
Waiting in a queue for the best part of two hours.
But the trip, the wait, the cost- you forget all of it,
When you see Paris at night well and truly lit.
The city unfolds beneath you and spreads as far as you can see,
And the view is never really captured in shoddy photography.
The final day, Monday, we did the Stade De France,
This was not a lad’s need for Football, this was pure romance.
Most straight, red-blooded males love their football stadia,
But just how impressive it would be, I had no idea.
Tennis-court-sized tv screens large enough for all to see,
And the changing rooms had been designed by Michel Platini.
The players’ tunnel is heated to warm them head to toe,
And the pitch can be transported to let the green grass grow.
In an attempt to be more French we went for a coffee and a fag,
Before the lads obligingly packed the last stuff in to their bags.
The boys left on seperate jet planes and I don’t know when they’ll be back again,
But what a weekend in ‘Paree’ that was funny to the end.
I began the tidy up in mine then Amy’s flat,
And smiled at the times i’d shared with Aid, Graham and Matt.
The tidy up is finished now but some things you can’t erase,
Since all the classic moments leave an indelible trace.