The Sunday After

J and I were pretty tired when we woke up the next morning, but we got our things together and checked out of the hotel. We knew our other friend was staying at the same hotel, and we asked the front desk about him to make sure he got in all right the previous night. I had received a strange text from him a bit earlier saying that he was massively hungover and that his debit card had been stolen the previous night.

The man at the front desk reported with a small chuckle that our friend hadn't checked out yet and had called downstairs for some milk. We weren't quite sure what to do so we headed over to Patka's flat and while we discussed what we ought to do, the man in question arrived.

He actually looked a lot better than I expected, and we managed to convince him to grab brunch with us. Our friend recovered sufficiently to tell us exactly what happened to him the previous night as we scarfed down our eggs and brioche as he sipped delicately from a Sprite.


He and another guy had decided that kebabs were in order after the club, and they were short a few euro so he made off to the nearest cash machine. On his way there, he spied a wine shop and decided to pop in for some drinks to go with their kebabs. Apparently, some Frenchman chatted him up and started hugging him while hollering "Americano!" and my friend pushed him away. He patted his pockets immediately after and noticed his wallet was missing. He grabbed the Frenchman and threatened to call the police when the Frenchman pointed at the floor. Lo and behold, there was his wallet. He considered it a close call until he noticed that his debit card was missing.

The whole time, our other friend is waiting at the kebab shop holding two giant kebabs up and wondering where in the world he's gone off to and how he's going to pay for the kebabs.

Anyway, we enjoyed the story immensely since no real harm was done and it went down well with our food. We wrapped up our morning with a stroll around the farmer's market that was across the street from the restaurant and then started the long walk back home. In London, most shops are open on Sunday even though they do close early, but in Paris, everything was completely shut and the streets were relatively empty.

We chilled out at Patka's flat, sharing some of our favorite music videos and miscellaneous video clips until it was time for us to leave to catch the Eurostar back home.

I'll miss Patka tons, but the engagement and move is a wonderful thing for her, and I can't wait to visit her in Singapore for her wedding. But until then...