Nice – Nice in Nice

Nice – Nice in Nice

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For my last night have decided to attend a concert, open air. Here I can vent my emotions and generally get in the spirit of the occasion.

It has started to thunder and lightening and my performers are being rained on like myself.
Instead, i decide that it may be better in the casino which may have a black jack wheel or something I can get my fingers stuck in.

casinoOn reaching casino they decide that they don’t like my trainers, which I find disappointing as they are Reebok Classics.
Perhaps it’s the smell that’s putting them off.

I move on again, this time to another casino where they just have the monkeys putting the money in the machines. now this may seem like a good pastime to some people, but to me from the outside it simply looks like a load of people sitting in front of machines putting the money in. Where’s the fun in that?

I move on again ,this time to a nightclub called the dancing club, which i’m afraid to say looks astonishingly crap. after what has preceeded tonight this is overlooked and moved to the back of my mind as I pay the 16e entry fee.

On entering I am in fact the only customer and the aged club owner/cloakroom attendant, takes it apon herself to aproach me and attempt to show me a good time, french style. this fails, but I manage to get a cigarette off her before she gets the picture and goes back to handing out the cloakroom tickets.

Negresco HotelsNow the night is young and i am not having a good time swaying in this dancing club and although there are people arriving I just can’t be arsed hanging around, drinks are pricey and the place is shit.

I decide to leave and take a joant down past the Negresco, this is where if there are any celebs in town, they might be staying.
Nothing flying out of the windows or motorcades indicates tonight might be a quite one.
I decide to skip a drink in the bar and move on to the central area of town.

I think i’ve probably passed about two hours since the concert got rained out.

I decide to try one more a place called the klub, where they turn me away for not being a homo. I insist on my homosexual credentials, splaying of the the buttocks etc. but to no avail the door is slammed in my face.

This is my last night in Nice. I’ve had better ones.

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