TRAVELMAN PARIS, FRANCE: French Phallicies

It rained my last day in Paris. It was a light rain, just beyond a mist. It didn’t stop ol’ Travelman from walking to the bus station. ...That’s right, Travelman’s referring to himself in the third person again! Cuz ol’ Travelman can’t resist an opportunity for Travelman to sound ridiculous! ...Bitches. (I’m glad that I at least make myself laugh).

Paris, is the essence of refinement, culture, and class.

Now enjoy a picture of an outdoor urinal in a sculpture park along the river... And don’t think ol’ Travelman didn’t leave something from the good ol’ U.S. of A. in the uritrottoir! (I didn’t. ...stage fright.)

My favorite part is the instructional sign.

Here’s one of the sculptures. ...Or another outdoor urinal, not sure. Maybe the thing I thought was a urinal was a sculpture. ....I don’t get the French...

Here’s another one. Looks innocent enough. No sign of overboard gay Paree’, city of romance and free love, right..

Still looks on the up and up. Maybe getting a little phallic, but no need to lock the kids back in the hotel room in front of the Disney channel...

Okay, here’s a but, but no big whoop...

Holy Hannah Montana and sweet baby Simba! Kids, don’t look at it. Look at daddy’s bald spot, don’t take your eyes off how daddy’s going bald. Here’s your chance to make all the jokes you want. Hon, kids? How about we go for some of those fancy French pancakes, whatta ya say?…eyes on me.

Later I found the bus station. I was early and hanging at the bus station is no fun, even in Paris. So I went in search of some action. Travelman likes action not words, Travelman’s middle name is Actionman. Travelman also likes words, truth be told. Travelman’s last name is And-Also-Wordman. He always had the longest name on the honor roll.

I came across this place just after walking under the train tracks. There was nothing else around

And it was the coolest place I’d been to in Paris! Sorry about the blurry pics but I was taking pictures from my hip because I needed to get pics of the place but didn’t want to further reveal myself as the cheesy tourist..

Every bit of the place was covered in pictures and knick-knacks. Metal toy cars and motorcycles lined an upper shelf on the side wall. On the upper shelf of the back wall were finely painted French toy soldiers.

It seemed like the owner / bartender lived there. The bathroom in the back was like a personal bathroom and there was a tiny kitchen behind that. More stuff was piled everywhere.

Jazz music from the 1920’s and 30’s played on the stereo. Two people sat at the tiny bar. The guy wore a leather jacket, the woman looked like she was a dancer from a French New wave film. She smoked like it was oxygen. The place was so French!

Check out the beer bottle opener. And to get a beer you just went to the fridge in the back.

That’s not a beard on the bartender, it’s a mustache!!! Dude looked like he brushed his teeth with French wine. He was hitting on the woman hard. They spoke French the entire time, he kept finding excuses to hold onto the woman’s hand.

Eventually he put in a CD. It was Cuban music and awesome! I wanted to stay for a second beer but had to catch my bus. The owner who only spoke French seemed to try to tell me there was no charge for my beer but I didn’t understand him until after I took my money out, so he shrugged, like ok, fine I’ll take it.

A great ending to my Paris adventure. I was so happy walking to the bus. All I did in the bar was sit and listen to the music and to them speak French, but it was magnific!!

Here’s fifteen seconds of frantic video footage I took with my phone next to my pocket... https://steemit.com/travel/@travelman/7awej9ki

!steemitworldmap 48.8448 lat 2.3836 long French Phallacies, d3scr