Parteeeeee...

It's 03.22 on Saturday morning, the longest I've been up for a while. Such a fun night with my gorgeous new Parisien girl friend. One of my best guy friends of old has just left Paris - he who won't settle down; incidentally, a guy friend I've never had a thing with, for the record. Anyway, he spent last weekend here with said gorgeous girl and we all ended up together for Sunday brunch at the delightful Café de Flore (my new Wolesley), joined by the most fah-bulous gay, London journo friend who's our neighbour having relocated years back. I did my whole Jewish mother schtick with bachelor guy friend and had him married off by Monday, if only because I was desparately coveting his cool Parisien plus one as my b.n.F.f (best new French friend).

So I had supper a deux with b.n.F.f at Le Coupe Chou, the most heavenly, romantic, old-fashioned French restaurant in the 5eme. Delish food, charming service and a perfect coupe de champagne or two salon. She's a darling. Super smart film finance exec with a naughty sense of humour. Hey, it takes one to spot another. The NSOH that is, sadly not the super smart bit, dammit. Are acronyms so 2009? Noted. It's gone midnight and we're the last to leave the restaurant. The Paris party crowd weren't at the Coupe Chou that's for sure. They were all at Derriere (in the Marais) most likely, but more on those nights another time.

To be continued...