La Grippe

After 2 days straight being bed ridden because of the influenza (because, despite its perfections, Paris does spread the flu), I feel like quickly telling of my Friday night.
Liisa and I met up with one of her Finnish friends from home (redundant?). She asked me to come along because she said she doesn't enjoy his company very much, seeing as he was a real
"snob" of a guy. I, being the supportive friend, obliged to play buffer.
He was a rather pretentious guy from some ENS or some other big school. Went to SciPo for his u-grad. And he was just brimming with self-appreciation and critique. I know many people like him. I could tell he was sizing me up the whole time. I decided to play at his own game.
We went to this place near the Sorbonne for dinner, called Le Petit Prince (oh so appropriately fitting his demeanor). Though the thought of food is slightly revolting to me right now, I can objectively say that the meal was excellent. A little pricey, but well worth it.
The table talk was amusing; he grilled me for about 2 hours. And about newspapers, too! What do I think about the Herald? The WSJ? The NYT? The BBC news? The Financial Times? Le Monde? Well, apparently I passed with flying colors and impressed him. I didn't stumble with any of the newspapers, and I (putting on my pretentious facade for him) was adding some good old BS intellectual jargonated opinions. He loved me. It was great. And you could tell that, as soon as he called me a "liberal", he lightened up tremendously and chilled out! He started goofing off a bit (thinking he was with someone of intellectual equal, I presume), and even agreed to go out to get a drink after dinner. He actually wasn't that bad of a guy, once he took off the holier-than-thou impression.
We went to this bar in Mouffetarde that I strongly recommend not going to: Student's Bar. They pushed us in and out all too hastily. Terrible service, even for France's standards.

Liisa's Italian friends called up and asked us to go to this posh club with them, Showcase. So we met up with them and sally-forthed to the club. Liisa and I, unfortunately, were the only sober kids in the group, making it a little confusing to get to this said club.
Now, mind you, I'm not much of a club-goer. So I was just hoping it'd be some nice little place I could cool the jets off in some corner. Ohhhhh, noo......
This place freaked me out the moment we realized we had to go UNDERNEATH a bridge by the Seine. The bridge over by Esplanades des Invalides. I always think that there are ogres under bridges. And now I know the truth; I'm right.
We get into this bar/club/disco place, and there's this sad excuse for a band playing. Liisa and I, knowing quite a bit about music, were rather offended by their music. And one of the guys was wearing this frilly girl's shirt, which was not pleasant to watch. And the drinks were expensive, so we bought one and called it quits. After a while, I started to realize that everyone at the club were probably on something....
And the Italians were wasted within the first 30 minutes.
We tried dancing for a while, but after about an hour I finally asked Liisa if we could just go. I wasn't having enough fun to stay (or want to come back, for that matter). We had a lovely walk back to school and after I dropped her off at her flat, I hailed a cab.
The next day I woke up completely and utterly sick, called an emergency doctor, and stayed in bed... And though I asked for an English-speaking doctor, I got a French-speaking one. Oh well, it took a bit, longer, but we did the job. And she put me on the WEIRDEST diet ever!!!! Cheeses, meats, yogurt......everything I normally don't eat! And I've been too sick to even stomach the idea of cereal, so it's been a quiet digestive few days...