Kobi: I’ll be in Paris tomorrow. Will you still be there or are you heading to Antarctica to spend time with George?
I knew it.
I knew I never should have told my so-called friends about my Antarctica experience.
Emperor penguins are not aggressive, they said.It’ll be fun, they said.
Yeah, it’s fun until a baby penguin of the pack gets curious about the six foot human in their territory and waddles at your feet. Then said human picks up and pets the cute, adorable baby penguin—that I lovingly named George—and proceeds to get the wrath of hundreds of angry penguins.
Of course, a video of me running from a herd of penguins, pecking and flapping their ungodly sized wings at me, spread like wildfire and I haven’t heard the end of it since.
Dane: Did you know emperor penguins are like three fucking feet tall? Literally half my size! It was the most terrifying moment of my life.
Kobi: More terrifying than when that WWE wrestler threw you over her shoulder and tried to take you back to her hotel room?
Dane: …
Kobi: That’s what I thought. Where are you staying?
Dane: A hostel in Left Bank.
Kobi: You and those damn hostels. You can literally afford to buy the Ritz. Why do you always stay in those?
Dane: Hotels are borrrrringg. Hostels are wild and unpredictable. You should try it sometime.
Kobi: Not a chance in hell. See you tomorrow.
“You have no idea what you're missing,” I singsong outloud to myself as I pocket my cell phone and walk intoAvec Plaisir.
2
DANE
The old century French Gothic building is just as stunning inside as it is on the outside. The grand entrance is tall as it is wide. The skeletal framework of the arches in the ceiling are highlighted by dramatic uplighting from the corners of vertical pillars.
The moment you walk in, you instantly feel transported to a completely different era. One of classic elegance and timeless beauty. But I know the truth of what lies behind those hidden lobby doors.
“Dane?” I glance over to where I heard my name.
“Juliette!” I say with a bit too much excitement and my words echo off the cement pillars and granite floor. Stepping toward her, she smiles as I lean down pecking her with a kiss on each cheek.
Juliette has been the manager ofAvec Plaisirsince it opened four years ago. I came for their opening night celebration, but so did half of the LGBTQ+ community in Paris. Needless to say it was wild and a tad out of control. Parisian police couldn’t control the crowd and a man with more threats than wit camebarging through the doors, grabbed Juliette and held her at gunpoint.
With more adrenaline coursing through my body than logic, I tackled him and held him to the ground until the police could restrain him.
Don’t dig too much into my heroic actions. I am no hero.
I just act first and think of the consequences later.
I have a genius level IQ, with the instinctual behavior of a jellyfish, and the emotional intelligence of a baby panda.
But, from that point on, Juliette has always given me a bit of special treatment.
“It’s been a long time. How have you been?” she asks.
“I’ve been good. Traveling, causing trouble,” I wiggle my eyebrows, “you know, the usual. How about you? How’s Tom?”
She holds up her left hand, the diamond on her ring finger shining just as bright as her beaming smile.
