An acid taste of freedom

Paris, France: Ouh la la Cabaret

Chapter 3: Pigalle, red light district.

A flashing neon hung on an intriguing stone-building reads “Ouh la la CABARET”. A middle-age barker with deep laughter wrinkles and a thick moustache is standing at the entrance, accosting passers-by. His slick suit contrasts with the tatty exterior; the facade has obviously seen better days and is in need of a good lick of paint.

'Why, heller pretty ladies, are you coming in for our fabulous show?'

I stop sharply and Sophie, eyes on the pavement to avoid jamming her stilettos between cobbles, thuds into me.

''Sure honey,’ I say, ‘you're dancing tonight?'

'Ha, ha, you’re a funny one, I can tell. Huh ner, my discoballs thong is in the wash tonight would you believe!’ His eyes twinkle and narrow. ‘How about you, would you like to dance tonight?'

‘I might do… What sort of acts exactly do you have in there?

‘Ha, everything you could possible want, we have all genres of Artistes! Singers, dancers, poets, acrobats… including Sissy and her Snake, our dark poet Beau De l’Air, Firegirl Sash, Yoyo-master Ficelle, our cancan troop led by La Lulu, and a very special treat for ladies only, the unctuous crooner Em Brulée!’

‘Sounds… wonderful! Can we have a peek inside?'

Sophie smacks my arm hard.

'What are you nuts?' she shouts.

'Relax!' I laugh, ‘It's a cabaret, not a strip club!'

'Stop flirting with that crumbly git, Lilo, what's the fucking difference? This street is grim, let’s go home.’

'Hey, this isn’t a very nice thing to say, missy!’ says the doorman, ‘the difference is that we are a reputable house, and you should show a bit of respect for an old man like me, you'll reach my age before you know.'

Sophie snubs him.

'Don't even think about it!' she threatens, pushing me along and away from the door.

'Come back anytime, sweetie,' the doorman shouts at me as we hobble away, 'it'll be a pleasure!'

I walk in silence. Sophie is sulking too. 'Don’t know if you noticed,’ she hisses, ‘but we’re in Pigalle, it's hooker city down here. Why did you even talk to this guy? He could be a pimp. You are NOT working there.'

'Oh come off it. You're so stuck up, got to have a bit of fun sometimes. Cabarets are lively at least! Night shifts at McShit are dodgy and there are three years to go at Uni before we can save the world. You may be happy at your parents, but I’m not going back so got a better idea?'

She pinches her lips and says nothing.

'Well you're a bundle of joy tonight, aren't you!'

'Piss off Lea. I'm knackered, we've been walking ages and all the free bars around here stink. We should’ve gone to a jazz club in St Germain, they’re lively and less seedy.'

'Well, the student loan won’t cover that, I can't afford that kind of a place.’

She throws me a pissed off look. ‘Right, party mood gone. Let’s call it a day.’

We walk to the station without saying a word and by the time we get there, my feet are blistered and sore. Shouldn't have worn those damn shoes. It's only 11pm and the train will take an hour to get to my poky flat. I live north, Sophie south. Her metro arrives before mine. I've made my decision fifteen minutes ago anyway, I'm not going home tonight. I head towards the escalators again.