The Paris Killer

I was once a lost visitor in Paris. Hadn’t been off for a while, being a home husband at the time. I’m in Paris now.

Must let my hair down and steal a little boogie. I hit the Paris streets to pick up some supplies; it wasn’t difficult.

I hit the club with the longest queue and blagged it to the front with my London accent, YES!! I’m in!!

To give you the short version of this story. This club wasn’t what I thought it was, and neither were the supplies I bought. I headed for the first cab and got in. Just about to close the door, and this very last bloke grabbed the door and asked, where I was going?

By that time, I was tired, pissed off, and shit scared. Tell you why later. I’m going back to my hotel. No! No! He said Come with us. I was really worried then, until I heard darling, and it was a woman’s voice. I sighed with relief.

Then he said come with us. He was a very persuasive person, so off went. Fantastic after-party champagne and outrageous supplies. I was having such a good time I almost forgot. I was gonna need a good excuse to escape this lot. I got one. Sorry, I’ve got to go, bro. We were brothers by then. Bro, I’ve got to go. My kids are back at the hotel, and their mother is not there either.

He looked a bit shocked. I said, don’t worry I hired a nanny for the night. The problem was I had two terrors who would tear me apart if I didn’t get a couple hours’ shut-eye. Okay, keeping it short. About 16 years later, we were in company, and he decided to tell the story of how we met. He was on his way to the party. He got a cab, went to get his lady, and I stole it.

I never had that impression until that day. It blew me apart. He could have asked me to find another, or if I would not have hesitated. But he didn’t. The best diplomatic move ever. Lots of love to the Paris Killer. You will always be my brother. Keep on spreading love ❤️