Awkward Metro Moments pt. 3

France doesn't have open container laws. This means, if you so desire, you can walk around with an open bottle of wine and nobody arrests you or judges you (well, maybe a little judgement). On Friday and Saturday nights, this leads to quite a bit of fun on the metro. It can be really awkward if you're going to your friend's apartment to watch "The Notebook" and drink tea and everyone is taking huge swigs out of their various bottles, dancing, singing, etc. But if you are one of these people, it can be a blast. It's a magical time of night when everyone on the metro becomes friends and shares bottles, etc. I've had a girl offer me some of her whisky, once. (I didn't take it though, she looked kind of dirty)

Last night some friends and I were on our way to a get-together of international students, and we took the metro. I didn't have a bag, so I was lugging a sizeable bottle of vodka and two cans of Red Bull. Healthy, I know. We sat down across from some guys carrying a few bottles of their own. However, I was pretty apprehensive of them. There is a kind of guy in France that is very unlike the usual hipsterish, peacoat-wearing, swooshy hair type. These boys (usually they are teenagers) can not be described by any other word but "hooligan." They wear shiny, puffy jackets, track pants, and sneakers, and they all have the same bizarre hairstyle. It's really short all over the entire head except the VERY top, where there is so much gel on the remaining hair that it stands up in wet-looking tufts that I'm sure are quite sharp and not at all normal hair texture. I'm not a fan. If there is anyone ever causing trouble in the street, or in the metro, 90% of the time it is these boys. I don't understand who they are, why they always seem hell-bent on making everyone around them uncomfortable, and most importantly WHY they wear their hair like that, but whenever I see them I literally cross the street because the chances that I'll be harassed are very high.

So when I sat down across from these guys, I was kind of nervous they were going to give us trouble. But as soon as they heard us speaking English, they got really excited and started trying to talk to us in English as well, which was hilarious. The most talkative one's name was Mahmoud, and the only phrases he seemed to know were things like, "I have 24 years old," and "My name is Jack Daniels." They seemed to mean well, though, and soon we were all conversing happily. And by conversing happily, I mean they were talking to us and we were laughing at them/trying to ignore them. They were drinking some kind of sketchy off-brand soda out of the can, and apparently wanted to mix them with something, because one asked me if I had a "goblet." Sadly, I did not have such a thing, although I think I'd like one so I could feel like Harry Potter when I drink out of it. Anyway, lesson learned, I suppose. Even hooligans can be nice, apparently, on the magical night train. I'm going to do some more research next weekend.