Chacun Nez

It was as the elevator doors closed that I began to wonder if I had made the right decision. Inside this most miniature of metal contraptions I stood with a lovely man I had met minutes previously meandering down the Rue d’Orsel, my partner waiting patiently downstairs with his friend for the elevator to return. It only being able to fit two persons at a time we, with no clue where we were going, had to divide our company and multiply our trust for the promise of an interesting night.
Standing on a balcony overlooking the Sacré Cœur made the risk worthwhile, as did the friendly party goers who pulled out their best English as we brushed off our awful French to converse about Paris. The majority of the group amazed me with their grasp of the English language, to say we met them halfway with our French would be embellishing our abilities. There were those who could not speak English but, none the less, charmingly expressed the wish that they could through their friends. Our enthusiasm for the Eiffel Tower and Louvre were met with sympathetic laughter and an interesting attempt at discussion of modern art. We were recommended the Centre Georges Pompidou, a gem we would not have discovered had it not been for this lucky encounter.
Amazing as this revelation was, something else struck me more this night. The music was a range of British and American amongst tecktonik beats and I hear the opening lines of N.E.R.D. The entire room explodes into a recitation of “All the girls standing in the line for the bathroom!” Yes, even those who previously could not recall a word of English are shouting the lyrics. It might be exaggerating a little to describe this night as life changing, but most definitely thought provoking. The power of music to blur the line between languages is a treasured revelation. Thanks to N.E.R.D these charming people, if ever in an English speaking country, will confidently be able to comment on the inevitably large queues leading into the ladies toilets.