So i made it to the plane somehow, i need to calm down so i order whisky to wash down codeine with. A man with an expensive suit start talking about some boring business convention. I pretend that I have an ear lock so I can rest a little bit.
Barely close my eyes when it’s time for landing, the pilot announces: ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Paris!
I am taking a cab straight to the hotel, at the neighbourhood I usually like to stay. Jacques Bonsergent is one of my favourites, near by the canal Saint Martin and about 15 minutes to the Quartier Latin.
At the hotel the same dramatic greetings, handshake, hug, kiss on the both cheeks, chitchatting while checking in, one more handshake and finally I am in my room.
Standing there, by the window, it’s hard to decide, lorazepam or diazepam? Why the hell should I choose anyway so I take them both.
I check out my phone: E-mail, G-mail, Messenger, Tinder, Facebook, WhatsApp, Telegram, Instagram, why the fuck do I have all this shit install? I really don’t know.
I get all dizzy and before I know it I fall in sleep, shortly after, not that short, more precisely 6 hours later, hotel phone rings, I guess I was smart enough to order a wakeup call, great.
Jump in to the shower, quick wash, brush my teeth, shave my face, shave my balls, jump out of the shower, looking at the watch, 12 minutes only, god damn that’s good!
Getting dressed, call a cab, while waiting hitting the minibar, I love those little bastards: whisky, Vodka, Bacardi, they are so cute so you have to drink them all.
Cab driver ask me where, "to the Clichy" I say, he laughs, I guess he knows to well about all the crazy shit, that is going on there.