#tbt to that time I went to Europe with my dad, my brother and his girlfriend…
One of the most fun nights was our second one in town. After touring sewers, some metroing, a crêpe and relaxing at our apartment (3-stories, from the 1700s, with a treacherous staircase), we met up with my dad’s friend Michael. My dad and I met Michael on our 2009 trip to Paris; he was running the corner bar, where we drank nearly every night, and let us hang out after hours. We’ve stayed in touch with him over the years.
He took us to his favorite bar in the Bastille area, le Lèche-vin, a chill, locals bar filled with so much Catholic imagery that most churches might consider it overkill . My brother looked rather like Jesus at the time, which one of the bartenders thought was funny.
Natasha, Adam’s girlfriend, got up to use the restroom, which our table was sitting right in front of. She went in. And immediately came out. She sat down at the table, an odd expression on her face.
“What’s the matter?” my dad asked.
Michael laughed.
“Why don’t you go look for yourself?” she said to me.
So I got up, and went in and promptly came out. Yup. The bathroom was covered in hardcore pornography and didn’t have a toilet.
“Is there a women’s restroom?” I asked. Michael, chuckling, shook his head. Oh boy.
Of course, the men had no problem using the hole in the ground to pee, and eventually Natasha gave in, but I’m not a camper. I’ve never actually popped a squat before. So when the two glasses of wine demanded to be released, I went in to the pornographic ‘restroom’, locked the door, pulled down my pants and…. hopped up on the sink.
That’s right. I peed in the sink. #sorrynotsorry