Last night I was coerced into going out to a club.
I rarely do that anymore. Years of working at music companies sucked the joy out of being in dark, raucous venues. When you have to go out for a living, you start to really want to stay in and make it a Blockbuster night. Aside: I have to give props to Blockbuster, a company I despise, for indelibly imprinting their stupid ad in my subconscious. That’s how I eventually became BFF with Netflix, the most perfect service ever invented.
Back to last night. It was a beautiful, drizzly night, perfect for cuddling up in bed. But damned if I wasn’t going to be social (a resolution that’s a byproduct of an article I’m researching). D. and I bundled up and headed out, just in time for the drizzle to become a steady rain. We traipsed through puddles and hiked up the steep hills of the 20th arrondissement for a long time, because I hadn’t bothered with the Gmaps pedometer and thought the place was nearby. I’d forgotten about all those stairs in Pere Lachaise…what elevation is that neighborhood, anyway? We finally got to La Flèche d’Or, in a converted former train station. Drenched and disgruntled, I was all ready to hate on this place. I’d read it was an indie-rock/electro venue and thought, “Oh great. Williamsburg redux.” I do NOT like Williamsburg.
But a strange thing happened: Kiss Kiss Bang Bang sang me right out of my bitchtastic mood. I liked their music. I liked the venue. I liked that I didn’t have to do battle with a coat-check Nazi. I looked around and, after a while, noticed that I liked watching the scruffy, hair product-laden crowd with its wide age range from boy toys to old geezers. We never found the friend we were supposed to meet, but I got my people-watching fix and I had fun. I’d even recommend it to friends.
I think I’ll go back.
La Flèche d'Or,
102 bis, Rue de Bagnolet , 75020 Paris
Tel : 01 44 64 01 02 - www.flechedor.fr