The Weekend of Clint (With an N)

Well, it has been a little while since my last entry, at least a few weeks if my memory serves me well, and it usually does. This weekend was the first time I stayed out until the 5 am train on two consecutive nights. It was also the first time I have ever been to a gay club, I must specify club here because my lovely mother Lindsey Chantal Peake was kind enough to take me to a gay bar in Montreal when I was around the age of 17. Now, before I get all negative on the experience, I really have no problem with going to such a place. I am generally comfortable with my sexuality and I was with three beautiful Moroccan girls, so I had enough motivation to keep me focused on the prize(s) and ignore what went on during the 10 minute blackout in which they pump the music and turn off all the lights in the club. I kept this focus most of the night and was having a decently good time, minus the repetitive playing of the Friends theme song, until I felt something on my ass. This was not a casual graze by a passerby, but a firm cusp of my left cheek. Now, as I was hanging around the girls I came with, I did a quick glance hoping it was one of them, but it wasn't. The girls were all in front of me and further than an arm's wrap around length to my virgin cheeks. Yes, I was violated.... I knew I shouldn't have let them see me dance! Uncomfortable as the situation made me, it did offer up the opportunity to move away from the crowd and closer to one of the twins, which lead to a more enjoyable night in the long run. So, given the situation at hand, I would gladly accept another anonymous ass grab if it meant I spent the night with twins... TWINS.

Moving on, because I am still a little too traumatized to have a scone, the weekend was possibly my favorite spent in Lyon thus far. I saw Clint Eastwood, in person, twice! Who would have thought that I would have to go to France to see Clint. Sounds like I have a story to tell, eh?

So, the Wednesday of that week there was a presentation by the CEFAM staff and its owner Roger Serre, who seems to be this brilliant old guy who built an empire of private universities in a country where anyone can get an undergrad and graduate degree for free. Anyways, Paul asked all the Americans if they wanted to speak and uphold the tradition of telling a little bit about our experience thus far and then add a few plugs for our own universities. Well, I was the only one to respond to his e-mail, but I convinced Cory to join me on stage for moral support. A few others made half comittments but never confirmed so I forgot about it. However, once they heard that Paul was giving Cory and I free VIP tickets to that weekend's Olimpique Lyonnais game, every American wanted to say something with us. Unfortunately, there were only two tickets and the snoozers became losers. I didn't really know what I was going to say, but I work best without a plan and didn't have too many worries now that I had a wingman by my side. When we got up to speak, however, I think I stole the show a little. Out of everything that was said, Cory accounted for roughly 10%. I was a bit overbearing, I will be the first to admit it, but I usually work with people who have no reservations about butting in, and that was not the case during this presentation. I was quite proud of my words though, kept it informal as is my preferred style, got some laughs which is my preferred result, and said everything that needed to be said. This was also a good show of skill in front of some French girls I had yet to meet. If seen as a talker, a talker I will be.

On a side kleptomania note, the apero that followed the presentation came with wine and appetizers galore. As much of the food had not been consumed by our time to leave, it now holds a spot in my freezer. I managed a plate, glass, and nifty clip on glass holder in my loot as well. The food was encouraged by the staff though, so the bulk of my taking was perfectly moral.

So, to the game. It was cold outside, so I prepared for this much. However, when we left our apartment there were not clouds in the sky. When we arrived to the stadium it was raining, and I did not prepare for that. Are our seats covered? YES! And, Paul did not lie about the hookup, we had special pads attached to our section that made the game relatively comfortable as well. OL played like shit that night and blew several key opportunities, leading themselves right towards a 2-0 loss to some small no-name team from the middle of nowhere in France. All was not lost, however. Because of the section we were sitting in, we had free access to the lounge located behind our seats. What does this lounge have? Free champagne, beer, and delicious (unlimited) hours d'oeuvre. During the 15 minute half-time there were roughly 4 glasses of champagne consumed, a cheese platter engulfed, and crab cakes with sprinkled seasoning indulged in. There were also shish kebabs and sea food risotto. I was relatively hungry before half time, but overly full afterwards. The trouble with this scenario is that the lounge also opened after the game. This time, there were just as many drinks but deserts as well. Brilliant! There were roughly 10 varieties of small mini-pastry-desert things that I had to at least try. One particular item came in a small crème brulee dish that I really wanted. The contents were not all that tasty but I cleaned it well enough to go in my pocket. Now I was stuffed, completely full with no desire to eat for the rest of the weekend. However, I did eat more. I actually ate an incredibly large amount this weekend, prompting sit-ups and push-ups this Monday morning. I have had a constant feeling of fullness, but when you present to prospect of new flavors who am I to say no? I think it's considered rude not to eat in France, so there. I am just being a gentleman... justification enough for my own sanity.

Did I mention Clint Eastwood was at the game? Too lazy to read everything I just wrote, so he was. He kicked the first ball, similar to throwing out the first pitch in Baseball. Why was he there? Well, he happened to be in town to promote a film festival, which we also attended the next day. They were showing a special version of the Good, Bad, and the Ugly (which I had seen before), but Clint was there so it made the whole event more interesting. That, and the free tickets we acquired from CEFAM were also a plus. My lack of actual seat was a little shitty, but that two was overcome with a little ingenuity. Ultimately, we left the movie early to avoid the crowd. We knew what happened and Clint had left prior to the start of the film... so no autograph potential anyways. Ultimately, still a kick ass weekend with some once-in-a-lifetime experiences, most of them good.

Peace and Love from Lyon,
Scott Stephen Smith