This photo can be summed up best by Nick:
“As far as the shot in the picture…it’s called a Flatliner [the two on the left]. Why we decided to take it…because I just found out about the manliest shot in the world and you had to try it. (Tequila, Sambuca, Tabasco sauce). That was one hell of a night, especially when I got us thrown out of the bar when you tried to buy the poster and the waittress wanted 400 euro for it.”
Sinister Guest X did not return during the night. A smart move on its part, considering my living room had three people sleeping in it who gladly would have punted whatever it was off my balcony and onto the street for twenty euros. To celebrate, a night on the town was in order, with no area better than the sordidness of the fourth arrondissement near the Centre Pompidou. Trashy little bars and cafes abound in the blocks surrounding the museum, as do unpleasant pigeons who wish nothing more than to drop a present on your head if you walk under the line of trees on the west side of the square.
At O’Sullivan’s Rebel Bar, which describes itself as “a funky little haven of rebels, rum barrels & replicas in the heart of the Marais!”
