The Crazy Horse and a Pink Pearl

Day 2:

Today began with a lot of exploration. I discovered that some McDonald’s in France serve meals on porcelain plates, and with porcelain coffee mugs! My father and I visited the Centre Georges Pompidou, a truly unique building inside and out. I need to spend more time there.

The night, however, was one never to be forgotten. It all began at Le Crazy Horse, Paris’ sexiest and most professional cabaret. Before we even entered the venue, we were greeted by a stunning caped doorman. Never in my life had I met a man with such swagger. My dad even recognized the doorman from when he came to the show over a decade ago. The Bosnian doorman has been working the doors of Le Crazy Horse every night for 25 years! When we were escorted to our table inside the intimate showroom lit by red lights, we were met by a bottle of champagne chilling in an ice bucket! The red velvet seats and illuminated table stands accented the decadent house. When the curtains rose I was immediately mesmerized by the whole experience. The women truly defined beauty, and they moved liked ballerinas. The choreographed light show complemented every movement on stage and the soundtrack helped transport the audience to a surreal level unlike anything else.

Recommendation: This is an essential Parisian experience!

We made our way over to the bar at the Georges V hotel, the best 5-star hotel in Paris (so I’m told). We met a man named Zach who was “in the oil business” and an older lady named Vikki from Canada. They were both having wine, but I was in the mood for something new. I’d never had a martini before and a delicious concoction called the Pink Pearl caught my eye. Girly? Yes. But I knew I would never see these people again, and I wanted something that actually tasted good. You know a place is classy when you spend $75 on two martinis, and no one blinks an eye. We ended up conversing until midnight. Vikki and I are now friends on Facebook.

The Georges V is right by the Champs-Elysées so we went for a midnight stroll towards The Arc de Triomphe. I would say the Champs-Elysées is a fusion of Times Square and 5th Avenue. There’s tons of lights, sounds and designer shops. I’ve heard it’s a right of passage/good luck to walk under the Arc, so what better time than now? A bottle of champagne and a martini later, I find myself running across the 12 lane roundabout at night towards the Arc. I could swear I ran for at least 15 seconds just to get across the street. Making it across that road alive exhausted the rest of the good luck I had that night. For when I hopped the rope to run under the arch, a few policemen joined me in the ritual.