The Ryndex

The story of Duckies’s trip actually starts at Denfert-Rochereau. I had figured out a foolproof plan to meet my guests in Paris, instead of at the airport, and I’ve been putting it into practice. In theory, I send you (the guest) a phone card, and detailed instructions on how to take the train into Paris from your airport and terminal, as well as detailed instructions on how to contact me on my mobile phone.

In practice, your plane is late, or your luggage gets stabbity stabbed, and you leave me two or three messages in my voice mail because I missed the ring and you called the next time while I was checking my voice mail, and your voice sound dangerously at the edge. And we never actually know if we’re going to meet up until you actually step off the train, and at that point, it’s okay because we’re so happy to see each other!

Then we go to the Fête de Vendanges in Montmartre.

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Tin Foiled Travel

So I was drinking some beers with a chum. We were in the Canadian bar, and it was Toonie Tuesday — 2€ beers (and vodka shots, and you know, whatever). We warmed up with a 6€ Québécois brew (Maudite and Chambly) so that the cheap San Miguel would be almost drinkable.

That’s when I made the ridiculous claim that Robert ..er.. whatisname was the lead singer of The Cure. You know the guy. I think he was also that video with the leggy blondes. Right! Robert Plant!

Back and forth, we debated. It was Robert something. Wasn’t Robert Plant from Led Zeppelin? Or wasn’t that guy’s name more or less like Robert Stamp. The bartender didn’t know (on an unrelated note, she was American, and the bar’s owner is English. Go Canada!)

Robert Plant. They make fun of him on South Park, and he’s got the crazy hair, and he probably rocks, and San Miguel beer tastes like skunk.

I was so convinced that I was right, that I refused to make a money bet — it wouldn’t be fair. So we ended up betting:

A. A long-distance run (a marathon for me, a Sun Run for her),

B. The completion of a particular craft project that I’ve been putting off for five years. By Christmas. I’m not going to say what the project is, to protect the Christmas surprise of the innocent. But I was thrilled to finally get it off my plate.

C. Whisky at breakfast. One day, at a breakfast restaurant, the loser is obliged to order a shot of whisky and look like a total alcoholic. This was inspired by Jessica and Robyn (hi girls!)

Long story short: Robert Plant sings with Led Zeppelin and Robert Palmer did the Addicted to Love video and Robert Smith is with The Cure. Go figure.

My bib number is #45251.

Tin Foiled BlahBlahBlah