journey to the end of the night

On Thursday evening, I went to the Motel again because I wanted to go there and also because Jackie’s friend Maddie wanted to check it out. I was there alone for about a half hour waiting for them, and that was awkward. Mostly, I stared blankly and sipped my beer. Maddie came with her friend, and then shortly after Jackie with a couple of her friends. The bar wasn’t as lively as the last time, and Jackie’s group was different than usual. It wasn’t exactly a dynamic group, I have to admit. One of them wanted to go to the Social Club all the way on the other side of Paris, so we got a cab there. Before we found that place, I was able to get a sandwich, and that was one of the most satisfying parts of the night. A good sandwich goes a long way.

We couldn’t get in to the club. I was okay with that. Instead we went to an empty bar across the street. I started to feel malaise; it was one of those nights where I wondered what I was doing with myself. I split a cab home with Maddie and turned in at around 4am. In the morning, I almost broke the washing machine. Florence, my host mother if one can call her that, would have exploded.