Val and I found the only gay bar in Marseilles open on a Wednesday night, the well kept MP bar. We were asked if we wanted to wear a ‘kilt’, the bar’s official garment, which I did and dropped trou (pictures soon to come). They give you a free beer if you do. They hadn’t heard of either of the suggestions Val’s roommate gave for a good French bar drink: monkey brains and tequila frappe. Just as well I suppose- they’re both foul drinks involving curdling. 
I was mistaken for a 'fake lesbian' by the bartender. I blame val. This has never happened to me before. I was so embarrassed. 
As we left the owner offered us a lap dancers from a go go dancer in a certain built in closet by the front door. Only, the go go dancers were male. Val and I looked at each other and after a quick ‘uh’ we politely declined. Her kidneys hurt already.

last modified Oct 30, 2005 at 13:19

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