just book the flight

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The scene is January 2020. I had just left a toxic workplace and was about to start a promising new job. I had spontaneously found and booked direct, roundtrip flights from NYC to Paris for only $300 for the following week. Covid was merely a shadowy figure on the horizon at this point, and I was filled with ignorant bliss in regards to it. I was about to spend three blissful days on my own in my favorite city in the world in my week in-between jobs. I had found a really cheap, shared studio apartment Airbnb in the 17th arrondissement (Batignolles) neighborhood, a non-touristy area filled with good restaurants, bars, and cafes.

I had no set plans for while I was there - I only wanted to eat good food and wander around the city. I ended up at a flower shop cafe for breakfast one day that had been referred by a college friend who knew someone who had worked there. It was there (after a delicious breakfast of a potato, tomato, olive, cheese tart with a side of a fresh salad) that I ended up flipping through a modern Paris guide book filled with hidden gems around the city and discovered La Gare Jazz Club.

This Berlin-esque hidden jazz venue a bit farther outside the center of the city has a very hipster Parisian and expat clientele, graffiti-covered bathroom walls, and Persian rugs hanging from the ceiling and on the walls surrounding the musicians. If you will believe it, this place has super cheap tickets for live jazz (around 15 euros or less), and really cheap drinks. I met a cool British girl there who had been living in Paris for the past seven years in Montmartre, works for a French art fair, and has an American boyfriend. I ended up hanging out with her, her boyfriend, and their French friend for the entire night. She even gave me a parting gift of a homemade carrot cake cupcake at the end of the night which was so sweet of her. It was the perfect night!