Nice Police

Yesterday, we checked into a hostel in Nice (only later would we find out it is for gays). Right after we checked in, I took my daily nap and Jen went to mingle with the hostelnicks. Low and behold she befriended three Australian Jews. We still are feeling the effects of birthright; where anything/everything Jewish is super cool so we make plans to go out with the aussies that night.

Night life in nice isn't much during the non-summer. I found this out as I was reading the booklet in the room called "Gay in Nice". At first I thought to myself how cute "the use the word gay to mean fun" in this quaint city.

Anyways, back to the aussie jews (who I don’t think are gay). We end up going to an Irish pub with them and basically we are the only people in the bar. I introduce them to Jaeger bombs, because they were all kind of tired and needed a boost. Teaching people about Jaeger bombs (drop a shot of Jaeger in Red Bull) is the best thing I have to offer people as an American. I also used the other American tactic of buying the bartender a shot so that he likes me instead of hating me as just another obnoxious Yankee. A few shots here and a few more shots there, and still nobody is in the bar but i'm getting to the level. We head off to another bar (with the bartender as the new addition, albeit non-jewish, to our crew).

The other bar wasn’t that much better. Some Fabio looking guy had a band and was singing American music while his crazed #1 fan/girlfriend wouldn’t let people sit at any of the tables. The aussie jews were kind of giving her a hard time and despite the red bull I was falling asleep at the bar so we decide to all leave.

One of the aussies had just spent a semester studying at Illinois and evidently got laid one too many times because he wouldn't stop talking about college girls, keg stands, bongs, etc. I figured I show these kids what a real rowdy American college kid can be like and started shaking a chain fence. Aussie Jew #1 and Aussie Jew #2 followed as planned. Shake, shake, shake - fun, fun fun. A French police car pulls up and this is where I’m thinking "French jail is going to suck" so i give the cop my "howdy, I’m a stupid American and just like shaking fences" smile and walk off. This works as the cop drives away.

Up the block we walk into a kids park (if you’re between the ages of 5-8, the south of France is the place to be. Every park has a carnival, game room, electric rides - think santa monica pier). We hop over a fence or two and now I am bouncing on trampolines. Im bouncing - boing, boing, boing. Im almost a foot off the ground and trying to think up how i can do a flip without fracturing my third vertebrate or vomiting all over myself. The aussie dudes are boinging along with me.

All of a sudden I see a French policeman on foot with a dog coming at us. I already used my "get out of french jail free card" with the last cop so here I have no choice to run. I figure he is the Nice Police and I am Littyhoops (former great neck north math team captain) and that I can outsmart this guy, even with 4 shots of Jaeger in my stomach. I run. My plan is not to stop until I find my gay hostel or the US Consulate. Im like tom cruise in the movies, except i just want to go back to my gay hostel to sleep and hes just gay.

Obviously, I have no idea where the hostel is. I have a piece of paper with the security code to get in but no address. I keep on checking the paper, but each time I look there is no address. I figure I'll check every street in Nice until I find it so I go to the beach and work my way up and down the blocks. Luckily I find it pretty easily, enter the security code and get into my room. Jen isn't there. This is good and bad. I get the extra pillow = good. Not knowing where jen is = bad.

Being the new media guru that I am I text message aussie #3 to find jen's whereabouts. I get confirmation that she is alive and well. I pass out, a free and happy man.