Have you ever been at the club and caught someone fast asleep in a corner? If you are 75% betch like myself, your first thought may’ve been “why don’t you take you old tired ass on home then? It’s not that deep”.
At least that was my initial reaction, until one fateful night…
The year was 2003. Despite being an impoverished exchange student, I was nonetheless vacationing in the south of France for Easter. Aix en Provence was everything i could have wanted; post card perfect, delicious food, glorious weather. I should have left well enough alone, but Marseilles kept calling my name.
A mere 40 mins away, it was Stendhal syndrome inducingly beautiful (i’m serious) in it’s own right. What’s more, Marseille was the mecca for french hip hop music, and home to one of France’s hottest “urban” nightclubs . After months of enduring nothing but euro-pop and techno i was craving some Ja Rule and 50 cent. (You know the story’s old if Ja Rule was still relevant. Ha). I simply couldn’t let the opportunity pass me by. My bestie agreed, and an itinerary was drawn up.
It almost worked perfectly too. We nearly pulled it off. Almost. Except we got to the club, we found out it was zouk night. Zouk. Night. ZOUK NIGHT. Urgh.
I know what you are going to say. That doesn’t seem so bad, right?
Please gerara here for real! I was there to turn-up, not to watch couples dry hump to a beat for EIGHT hours. Nor was i trying to have a random boy nose to nose,crotch to crotch, fingers all in my hair. Nah son!
While you can probably come up with a good idea of how the rest of the night went, the FINAL itinerary is posted below. Sigh.
06:00 Two retched, exhausted, hungry, and bedraggled girls appear at the bus terminal to catch the first bus Marseille—> Aix.
Ahh the follies of youth 🙂
Do you have any nightmare outing stories? Id love to hear them!