One Night in Paris

Few things can ruin a perfect night faster than getting screamed at in a foreign language, a lesson that I learned in Paris at 2am this summer. After a night that I think will go down as one of the best of my life spent drinking champagne and eating ice cream in front of the Eiffel Tower my classmates and I returned to our hotel to be screamed at for 30 minutes by the owner of the apartment building next door.

Apparently another student on the trip with us had jumped out of his 3rd floor balcony and broken her skylight and in the process broke an antique lamp and smacked his head on the pavement. The rest of the night was spent worrying about having a place to stay in the morning and viewing pictures of blood soaked towels taken by a friend rooming with our irresponsible classmate. We were up until at least four knowing all holy hell was going to come down on our heads the next morning when we had our daily meeting. It certainly tainted the rest of the trip. The next day was similarly ruined by our classmate when our gallery trip was canceled while our Professor took our unruly friend to get an MRI.

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