Opening Night

I think I arrived tonight.  Meeting a bunch of strangers off the internet is nothing unusual for me, so I arranged to do just that, at the Karaoke Bar Sablon.  Tram in Siberian conditions down Rue Royale and then a little stroll (pointy boots really not good on cobblestones) down the Place du Grand Sablon.  Despite the rather upmarket area the bar is...basic.  And cheap.  So that's fine with me.  I gave them my Doris Day and Alison Moyet and met some charming, lovely people.   And then I left.  Always leave them wanting more, as...somebody said.  Probably P. T. Barnum.  Or Tony Blair.

Walking back to the tram, I saw a man on a motorised sitting-down scooter, with a small dog in the front, in the pouring rain.  This gave me the giggles.  And then I couldn't stop.  Open-coated in the January rain, walking in the lee of the huge Nôtre-Dame au Sablon I kept giggling and snorting at what I've done.  At where I am now, at what I'm doing, at the fact I just sang to a bunch of strangers and danced at them. 

And despite all the scary scaremongering, the tram at 11.30pm was warm, well-used, and got me nicely home.