My newfound friend apparently from Jamaica, which also apparently made us America brothers, had thrown off his backpack, and a small French man had whipped off his belt swinging it high above his head towards the 3 AM Paris moon.
The three young women sitting down watched on as if a brawl was soon to unfold. Then shooting eyes at me to keep the peace.
It was madness, certain wild crazed madness.
My Jamaican drinking buddy pulled out of his backpack the last bottle of red, garnishing more than just his dukes.
“FUCK NO!” I had yelled and jumped on his back, holding back his arms.
“Listen big guy, you don’t want to wreck this old fool, because you know when the cops show up who they’ll come for first.”
“He no mahn, fuck em.”
“You really think this bitch is worth it?”
“Maybe no, I don’t know man, this wine – it make me angry. You’re right.”
“I know I’m right motherfucker, now grab your bag and just get out of here before you hurt this son of a bitch.”
"Come sit with us, that was good, you're good." One of the young women said.
She had big green mystic eyes, and messy hair. She handed me some whiskey.
Everything after that seems even more now truly unreal. Hoping in that cab, when it got to be 5 AM because the Paris skies started pouring rain.
"Come with us."
Not knowing where the hell I was headed. It was okay though, because it ended up arriving at the Parisian utopia.
Now I just have flash backs, and see things or smell things that remind me of those dream like nights, and days sitting in that apartment, rolling through Hemingway territory all because I broke up a fight, and was supposedly good company.
From violence to wine to bliss, and to the canal cutting through the dark Paris streets.
And then those half French, and half Spanish eyes looking into me every morning, and night. Calling me a stupid American, and lighting up those reds, opening the windows to let the sun wake me up.
5,000 miles away and yet it feels like a different life separate from any reality ever imagined. It’ll never be the same, and it won’t ever be so real, and I’ll never let myself forget.
