River’s King

River’s King is an interesting place. A riverboat located in the very classy 16th district of Paris. Many people come here to take dancing lessons early in the evening, before the party really starts (around 22h PM). There’s lots of space, so if dancing’s not your cup of tea, you can have some drinks on the upper deck in a more quiet atmosphere.

I’ve been there a few times and the mood is usually good. Most of the girls are classy, feminine and put some kind of effort to look good before going out. Of course, the usual disruptive elements are there too, with their flip-flops, flat shoes and sneakers, but they represent a small minority.

Arriving around 21PM I nonchalantly pointed my feet to the upper deck where I ordered a beer. A limited crowd was waiting for me. Small groups of people sitting at tables with a lot of space between them, which is not my favorite disposition. Opening them is always doable but can easily turn out to be awkward.

I settled in between two groups of girls standing at the back of the boat. While sipping my drink I opened the girl next to me. Her purse was almost in my feet and prevented me from deploying a posture of ultimate coolness to regale the crowd around us. The two young girls were in their early twenties, arabic type, elegantly dressed with makeup but losing points with common flat shoes.

Long story short, the discussion went nowhere, my low energy being probably one reason for it. It’s one thing to be comfortable where you are, it’s another to open with firmness and clarity in your voice. I learned that she was from Paris, and the other girl was her cousin from another country (didn’t ask where from, my bad) visiting her for the week…or more ? They were “catching up” because the first one worked during the week. I took that as a polite “fuck off” and leaved them to the contemplation of the Seine and its waves undulating under the setting sun.

I still lack some perfect state control. I can manage many situation but still feel a little puzzled when a set goes nowhere. Besides, a young and very thin guy later opened the same girl I talked to, with excellent results. The guy acted cool, wasn’t facing her, talked about himself (a little too much), his adventures in Paris (he was from another city) and she was fascinated.  So much so that when the cousin came back from the bathroom she was dismissed two times in a row when trying to talk to the girl. So much for the “catching up”…Rule confirmed, when it’s the righ guy, there are no rules.

In the meantime, a black guy joined to the second set of girls next to me. I have regrets and should have opened them, especially considering what they were going through with him. The guy was boring them to death with reflexions about the place of judaism in religions and things like that lol

While I was thinking of a simple way to rescue them, a third set of girls appeared near me. A sexy young girl with long hair and tight jeans, and her non smiling bitchy friend, who was obviously unhappy about…almost everything. She refused to offer a cigarette to the girl near me, who offered to BUY it. Her friend did, though with a bad vibe, preventing the atmosphere to seriously deteriorate. I tried to talk to her only to get cold short answers. I turned my back on them. The Seine view was definitely more interesting than those sad persons.

I stayed for the cruise, which is never a disappointment and finally decided to call it a day around midnight. No longer enthused by the people that night, even though an exceptionnally long line of people were waiting to enter the club as I left. Some running was waiting for me in the morning and I certainly intended to do better the next night.

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