The Crazy Horse Saloon

So I'll try now to catch up on what happened in Paris.

On Wed 11/16/11 Angela and I had tickets to the Crazy Horse. Having scouted the location earlier we knew to take the metro 9 to the Alma Marceau station. From their we went the the George V Cafe and had a lovely relaxing dinner.
This was the coldest night during our stay. After dinner Angie and I walked around to kill some time and wait for the Eiffel Tower to light up. It sparkles wicked crazy every hour on the hour. At 20:00 it went off and we attmpted to pose for photos. It was foggy though so our photos didn't come out exactly as we would have wished. Here are some blurry approximations.



The Crazy Horse Saloon
Was the main attraction for Angela. She has spent a great deal of time in the last 5 years studying burlesque and cabaret and so many things lead back to the Crazy Horse. It was with much excitement that we walked into the lobby. We had purchased the medium level ticket package at 100 Euros. This included admission and a 1/2 bottle of Champaign. After we had purchased the tickets Angela wondered weather it might have been worth it to throw down another 20 Euro each to get first tier seating. It's not like we'd have the opportunity to go again very soon. I had soothed her by telling her there would be no bad seat in the house.
Once inside we were ushered down stairs and led to a coat check. After the coat check we were lead to the management table, where we had been informed the manager would assign our seats. I had a good feeling that Angela's look would go over well, and it sure did. As soon as he saw Angela in her flowing red formal gown he exclaimed "Oui, Oui, Oui!" he examined our tickets then and said, "You are getting complimentary upgrade, for style!"
We were led to the front of the seating with no one between us and the stage. Our adorable bottle of Campaign awaited us.
The waiter came and opened our bottle and a pushy photographer tried to sell us ugly keepsake photos of ourselves. We annoyed her greatly by not buying them. C'est la vie.
Soon the show started and it was stunning. The show consisted of tits, lights and bodies moving on conveyor belts. They have elevated cabaret to something spectacular. I would love to go back, it was easily worth what we paid and more.
After the show we were happy and enjoying the champagne buzz. We hoped on a couple of metro lines and wove our way to a gay bar which we thought was called Raid with and extra D, or Raidd, which we found out later translated as Stiff. Smack palm to forehead, of course. Devin and Dylan were already inside waiting and drinking. It felt like such an achievement to meet at a destination in a foreign city after not seeing each other all day and no cell phones to guide us. Apparently people used to manage such feats all the time.
We had a couple more drinks then soon grew tired from the long days and odd hours. Gay dance clubs it would seem are not much different in Paris or Los Angeles.
We headed back to the Metro and to Vincennes. We stopped for Pizza and Crepes on the way back to the apartment. It was a chilly walk but it felt nice to be alive in it.

And then eventually we were asleep.