Victory!

Edmund Burke once said, "Justice is itself the great standing policy of civil society; and any eminent departure from it, under any circumstances, lies under the suspicion of being no policy at all."

If you recall a few posts ago I gave an account of the events at a bar, along with my subsequent e-mail to its owners. Everyone was doubting me being like, "What a waste of time Patrick they aren't going to answer you" or "Just give it up, your e-mail won't do anything" or "You can't skate by on your good looks this time, Patrick." Well, I had more faith in society than all of these doubting Thomases. Even in French society. Just today i received a reply e-mail. Here's what it said:
Hi Patrick

Sorry to hear that you have had an issue with one of our staff. Believe me, when I tell you that we take all negative feedback very seriously.

After speaking to the team that worked on Monday night for the quiz, I was informed that they had announced that the winners of the cocktail round to collect there drinks on a number of occasions. After waiting for a length of time, it was decided to give the cocktails to the team that had got closest to the answer, having thought that your team had left which can happen from time to time.

Re: the issue with Erik, I have had a lengthy talk with him, and he is not totally in agreement with your version of the story. At the same time, his handling of the situation could have been, and should have been better, and for this my apologies on behalf of Ma Nolan’s management and team.

Come in this Monday night, ask for me, and I’ve organise your round of cocktails for you (better late than never!!). By the way, this week’s big prize is €120!!!

All the best

Barry Gallagher

That's what Erik gets for tangling with the Diesel as well as for spelling his name with a "K." I would also like to hear how his version of the story differed from my amazingly accurate one. Well at least I have a new friendship out of all of this. I must tell you that this story is eerily similar to another redemption tale you may know. Just replace "30 years in prison" with "a bartender was mean to me," and "regained his freedom to be triumphantly reunited with his best friend" to "got some free drinks." Just think of it that way in the video below.

Props

Okay, so it's Tuesday again and my belly is full of delicious lasagna. I've finally been able to cool down from last night's events. I was one hot little potato let me tell you. However, I've recentered my chi and I am again one with the universe. I say all this while I sip wine out of my stolen Ma Nolan's glass. But enough foreplay, let's get down to business. Shouts outs:
A few birthdays this week for some foxy bulldawg ladies. Tomorrow we have the first lady of dankness turning 21, Miss Kelly Rogers. If you happen to see her you should definitely buy her a drink, but unless you throw a pretty tight spiral don't get any ideas. She's doesn't date down in the depth chart. Oh and vegas has even odds on whether or not she will fall down a flight of stairs during her birthday. Obviously they don't know her like I do. Happy Birthday K-dawg. On the 28th one of my top 5 favorite female pole vaulters at UGA will be 21 as well. Triple threat Mamsie Kostka will expertly plant a large tree in your yard, pole vault over it, then kick that tree's ass. She'll look good doing it too. A happy 21st the Mamser.
My final shout goes to my man Yassine Tkouri. He makes the meanest kebob in Nice, and if it weren't for his tasty late night treats I would be lost in a sea of baguettes and pizza with eggs(eggs? no I won't stand for it. Not in my pizza). Thanks Yassine, keep doing what you're doing. Seriously, I live for that a shit. Alright, well I'm gonna try to put some pictures up soon. Maybe even right now. I'll try to even put up some with me wearing clothes, you know to mix things up.

Injustice

Hey my sexy readers. Tonight I have encountered my first real travesty in France. I knew it would come eventually, but this one hit me hard. Every monday, my co-stars and I go to a bar called Ma Nolans for some trivia(Pub quiz as these queers call it). It's an Irish bar, and the bartenders seem to be especially sassy and unwilling to serve us barrel-chested Americans on a regular basis. Anyways, we played the quiz and there is one question where the winner gets a round of free cocktails. The question concerned the song "Davy Crockett" or something like that. I thought to myself, I know this... Then I did some reasoning. I remembered that in the first Back to the Future Marty McFly walked into the bar and the song playing was "Davy Crockett." Clearly, any idiot who knows about time travel realizes he went back from 1985 to 1955. Thus, the answer was 1955. I tell my quiz mates this, and when the answer comes back correct, we high-five hysterically. Free Drinks! Boof! I'm a genius. We ask our bartender about our drinks and he tells us to wait until the end of the game. Fine then. Later on, we ask for our drinks, and they tell us that our drinks have been taken by others and our name had been called out repeatedly. I speak to the head bartender, and of course he's a fuckin pansy irish bitch who won't have a normal conversation with me and gets all emotional that he is running a micky mouse bar that won't pony up the dough to some knowledgeable americans. He threatens to kick us out of the bar. After this encounter, I immediately grabbed one of their nice glasses, a menu, 20 napkins, and 10 coasters. They're mine, I'm keeping them. I raced home and sent a scathing e-mail to the Ma Nolans organization. Here is my e-mail. Oh and if this doesn't get a response, I'm lighting the place on fire. Enjoy:

Hello,

I am a frequent patron of your establishment, and I have been a fan of your bar until this evening. Though I am hardly a complainer, as I have never sent an e-mail of this kind, I feel compelled to tell you the events of the evening. Tonight, a group of friends and I went to your pub quiz in Old Nice. This is about our fourth visit to your quiz night, and we find it very enjoyable. However, tonight there was a cocktail question where the winning group gets a round of free cocktails. I knew the answer specifically, and answered 1955 as the correct year. They call out the year and the team that answered correctly. It was our team. Shortly thereafter, we asked a bartender if we could get our cocktails, and he told us that we get them at the end of the game. We say okay that's fine. Finally, the end of the round comes, and we ask about our cocktails(which everyone knows we won because of our reaction after the correct answer. Also the bartender we asked about the cocktails knew these were our rightful drinks). We then politely talked to a waitress who retrieved the head bartender. I was sure to be very polite to the head bartender, Erik. I explained the situation to Erik, and he immediately became very defensive. I swear that I was reasonable and nice when giving the explanation, and he told me to "stop wasting his fucking time when asking for free drinks." I then tried to explain further and he told me to shut up. In no way did I say anything insulting, and I told him I was trying to get the situation figured out. Apparently, our names had been called, and we had not heard them. That is clearly our fault and we are sorry. However, this is not my complaint. I just wish the employees had been more approachable and even-keeled. Clearly we were not lying, and I did not think that giving us the four free shots we had rightfully earned would not put a huge dent in the Ma Nolans Balance Sheet. I have never been spoken to by an employee of a respectable establishment in that way, and I felt that this encounter deserved mention to upper management. Thank you for your time, and I hope this gets sorted quickly and efficiently.



Your loyal and concerned patron,
Patrick Kimberlin

Tuesday Tuesday Tuesday

Hey sluts, it's me. I've been gone a week, and I know you missed me. As I promised, it's shout out tuesday, and I've had a number of BIMFites requesting some sexy props from your man, Captain America. Firstly, I'd like to shout out to my fellow frat star and IFC president Trevor "Yeah I took a fuckin bid" Brightwell. After being elected IFC president, he proclaimed that he felt like Zeus atop Mt. Olympus. Clearly, his bravado and general excessive level of fratitude deserve mentioning. Next, I would like to mention my McLover, Jenna McPherson. She has made arrangements to travel all the way to Europe to visit me for her precious spring break. This deserves a shout out, as does her ability to fill out a sweater during these cold winter months (RAWR!). Also, I would like to thank Mazda for its continued support of Michael Phelps. He won 8 fucking gold medals. As far as I'm concerned, he can go bald eagle hunting and still be the best thing that's happened to America since the Pony Express. I don't know why it takes some slanty-eyed car company to understand this. Finally, I would like to give a shout out to all the single ladies(all the single ladies!) who weathered the storm through Valentine's Day. I know you felt lonely, worthless, and unloved. All these things are clearly true, but at least you have another year to fix this glaring problem in your life. Stay sexy readers.

Shout Outs

Though I love talking about myself so much that I made a blog about my experiences in France, I also know that without all of my loyal readers, this blog wouldn't exist. Clearly, that's a lie, but you can appreciate the sentiment. Anyway, this blog is my baby, and I want my baby to grow and drink it's milk, so I'm going to create some new segments that will be staples of my blog. First up, Shout Outs. I will be glad to mention anyone's name who somehow does something that I approve of. This could include commenting on one of my posts proclaiming me a comedic genius, not reading bill's blog, falling down a flight of stairs for me to see, chanting U-S-A, telling me you are excited about Crank 2, quoting Star Wars, or being a hot girl. Also, if you have a birthday I will shout you out as well. I'll go ahead and try to do this every Tuesday. Tuesday is Lasagna day, so I can come home in a good spirits and give people the dap they deserve. This week's shout out goes to the guy who cooks the lasagna at that place we go to. It perfectly strikes that delicate cheese/meat balance. Also, I find it has a constant texture throughout, which is important to me. I hate biting into something that has ingredients with drastically different densities. Like when they put fruit in jello. I feel like i'm negotiating land mines. Okay so there's my first shout. Let the games begin.

Black Out

Something that is immediately apparent about France is that everyone wears black. It's like Henry Ford designed all of the outerwear. I think our more colorful attire tips people off that we are from out of town. We look like the Jamaican Bobsled team walking around in Gotham City.

Oh, I also heard a statistic that there are four times as many auto-related deaths in Europe as in the United States. This is not surprising, since the drivers actively speed up when they see a person crossing the street in front of them. You know in some states in the South how if you run over a deer you are encouraged to load it up and keep it for food or mount on your wall? Yeah, kinda like that here, except in more of a "Most Dangerous Game" kinda way. One upside that counterbalances my constant fear of death is that maybe I will get to be the spectator of a wreck(it's like seeing a unicorn!). In fact, this past weekend bill and I were at this kinda outdoor pizza delivery place and this delivery man leaves and goes tearing off on his scooter. He tried to shoot this gap in traffic and ended up sliding and going down by a light post. He kinda gingerly got up in an I-fucking-hate-my-job kinda way, brushed himself off, and drove off. I admire his dedication to his craft.

Language Barrier

Quick story: Last night we were out in the downtown area of Nice having beers. We were debating what to do next, and I said, "I dunno the world is our oyster." Bill enthusiastically yells, "Yes, and let's grab that rooster by the balls!" Amazing.

2 AM

I write to you at 2 AM, so take this post with a grain of salt (or sea salt if you're worried about sodium.) We were supposed to go to Monaco tonight with our fellow classmates, but it was pouring rain still, and we showed up at the meeting point to see that no one was there. We went to a bar, and played it cool. On our way back, Paul noticed the word "cabaret" written above one of the establishments. Bill did a 180 and went back to get a better look. The man at the door told us we could go in for 2 minutes and see what we thought. Sounds good to us. We entered to realize we were the only patrons there and were surrounded by about 15 hot European "dancers." We go to order beers and the tab comes out 90 euros. That's about 120 dollars for you Americans out there. We look at one another. Bill is Jones'in for female companionship and looks to be ready to pay. I am equally lonely, but my loneliness is only surpassed by my unwillingness to spend money. Paul and I bounce, and Bill follows suit. Another day I say, another day.

Rain

When selecting a study abroad location, one of my foremost concerns was weather. I do not enjoy the dreary, rainy days of January and February back home, so I thought Nice would be a perfect place to escape from my late winter blues. Now, it's not that I didn't expect lots of rain in Nice, cause I did... in da club. Unfortunately it's been raining outside basically nonstop for a week. When I go up to people who live here and i'm like "What the fuck dude, you owe me an explanation" they just start talking about how it never rains like this and the weather is usually so nice and sunny and this is a record amount of rainfall for one winter blah blah blah. I don't want to hear your life story. Just fix it, okay?

Oh, but I still stand by my decision to use my last bit of suitcase space on my stuffed teddy bear Jerome instead of a raincoat. He's old, and who knows if he'll ever get another chance to go to europe.

Genesis

Sorry for the delay, BIMFites. So I've been here for about 18 days or so, and I have much to report. The first day and night were a struggle. We arrived to a rainy country, and we're picked up by two girls from the school. In France, they do the kiss on the cheek greeting. I was unprepared for this, and when it happened I figured my American charm was already paying dividends... not the case. Sluts.

We spent much of the day slogging through the rain and fighting jet lag. We spent the night in the hostel with some party-animal mexicans. They went out at around the time we fell asleep (8 o'clock). They came back in at around 4, flipped on the lights, and began chattering in some strange language. I think it was Spanish, but I only took three years of it so it's hard to be certain. They chatted loudly for about 30 minutes with the lights on then finally went to sleep. Luckily, one of them set an alarm for about 2 hours later, and it went off intermittently well into the morning. It was a little irritating, but I handled it like any red-blooded american does when a foreign species gets in his way. I killed them.

Leading up to the trip, me, bill and paul(my supporting cast) talked about how crazy we were gonna be and how we were gonna just be partying nonstop. We would then execute an aggressive high-five and bask in our future glories. Yeah well we didn't go out or ingest any sort of alcohol for the entire first week of our trip. Not very frat. Finding a place to live was a real hassle, but we now have a place right across from our school. The location is key, so I can be all, "Oh hey ladies, my place is right over there. Wanna go "study."" You see, but I'm not really talking about studying. J/K. BNR.