Olive the Jerk 2

At the corner of Masson Street, just in front of the Farmer 's pub, three Japanese rockers in their fifties, dressed in leather from top to toe, wearing pointed boots and sunglasses, were leaning at the back of their van in the darkness and sipping a bottle of Jack Daniels. They were glaring at passers-by with that particular Japanese mixture of pride and indulgence. However, there were some weak signals that the alcohol was working its way, and that within half an hour, their cocky and arrogant attitude would be counterbalanced by an alcoholic euphoria and a characterized inebriation. The Japanese relationship with alcohol had always seemed very peculiar to me. It was as if there was a genetic variation that made them go crazy after just two or three drinks. Yeah, they were going to make us have a good laugh... Au coin de la rue Masson, en face du Farmer , trois rockeurs japonais, quinquagénaires, vêtus de cuir de la tête aux pied, en bottines pointues et lunettes de soleil, adoss...

We did all agree ! Family life had its own charm. But gosh ! It was also such a delight to press the pause button from time to time, to escape from it for a few days, to find back that feeling of absolute, unlimited freedom, to think of nothing but oneself, to get rid of all that creeping weariness, to recharge the power packs... and to see the buddies again. Two days after the Parisian party at Le Klub , I found myself, panting and hilarious, climbing the slopes of Croix-Rousse with my two good friends from Lyon.   My relationship with Sam and Romain was a long lasting, irreversible, friendship, dating from the time of our studies in Toulouse and mostly built up throughout our ten long years of living in Reims. Both of them had moved to Lyon shortly after I left for Reunion Island. Sam was the wise guy of the bunch. The energy of aikido was working as an infusing brew in him. We had been each other's shadow during our epic journey in Reims. Thinking of Sam made me ev...