Sunday Soiree

A couple of months before we left for our trip, I read an article in the New York Times about a phenomenon called the Sunday Soiree here in Paris. It began many years ago and was a time for artists and thinkers to get together and eat and drink and talk and exchange ideas. There are still a few long-running Sunday soirees following in this tradition here in Paris. One of the most well known, is at Jim Haynes' house in the 14 arr in Paris, quite close to where I happen to be staying. So, I made reservations and Scott, Allison, Carolyn and I made our way to Jim's house to meet him and 46 other strangers to share dinner and exchange ideas. It was a lot of fun!

There were a few very odd people, a handful of "regulars," people from all over the US, France and some other European countries. The "official" language of the night is English, so it was easy for us all to talk to the guests and I enjoyed chatting with quite a few. Some of our new friends made their way with us to a bar afterward in the shadow of Notre Dame cathedral.

While there, I was talking to a couple of guys sitting next to us at the bar, and then noticed a big commotion just to my right. I turned and saw a woman lying on the floor in the midst of a seizure. It seemed no one knew what to do, but (surprisingly), my First Aid training came back to me almost instantly, even though I haven't had a refresher course in years! I have to hand it to those American Red Cross classes...they really do prepare you for these situations. Luckily, the ambulance arrived within 5 minutes of someone calling, and the woman was beginning to come out of it already. She was upset and scared and I did what I could to reassure her and remind her that she was in a bar and had had a seizure. Her boyfriend was with her and seemed so grateful for the help because I think he had a bit to drink and was a little in shock on top of that.

After the girl was taken away in the ambulance, we realized that the Metro had stopped running, so we were stuck with either walking home, or taking a cab. Before deciding, Carolyn and I decided that the end of a very crazy night called for a crepe. However, no such luck, as even the late-night creperies were closing. We did find a Greek place, still serving up french fries and shwarma though. And, with our love of the French fry, we settled on that, then found a cab to take us back home, marking the end of a very strange night, Paris-style.