The B52 and The Sonias'

Another round of B52's over here s'il vous plait!
Needless to say, things got a bit out hand even before I started ordering Flaming shots.

Lets try and go back. On my way home from work on Monday I was pleasantly surprised to see that my favorite restaurant had finally opened its doors back up. Renaissance Cafe had been closed for full month to make some renovations. This establishment has been my headquarters since moving to Voltaire in November so I was quite forlorn when its doors were shut to me and my neighbors. The lights were finally on so I of course I had to pop right in and sit for a glass of wine. The place looked the exact same, but who am I to judge? Also who am I to not know how to ask this in French, so Im sorted.
Anyway, I sit down outside within the clear plastic confines and heat lamps overhead. I had a book in my bag and was ready to start the nights research. One glass of vin in and I am immediately consumed by the laughter going on at the table next to me. There are 3 girls having quite a laugh. Hilarity was ensuing if you will, and so I look up only to find one of the girls to "flash dance" turn around to me with these big white sunglasses, a huge scarf wrapped around her neck and blindly karaoking to a song that didnt exist. I busted out with a large woop for her and we all began laughing together. One of the girls spoke english quite well so we started gabbing. It turns out these girls are all my neighbors. Not in my building, but just right next door and one just across the way. They have been coming to Renaissance for years and judging by their interactions with all the staff it wasnt hard to see that they were all like family. I grew quite nostalgic for my places of yesteryear in SF when I was just like these girls. I immediately missed my family at the LeColonials and Rbars. I took a moment for myself and ordered another bottle of wine to share with my new companions.

Before I go on, its important to note what was running through my head this evening. Earlier that day at lunch, Benoit and Olivier had taught me some new words.

"Deeahnne, start a sentence with 'putain' and end a sentence with 'quoi.'"
For example:
putain! je besoin d'leau, quoi?
translating to:
Fuck! I want some water, what?

So all day most of us had been giggling about my new words. Because my accent is not tre magnifique (to say the least), its apparently quite funny to hear me uttering these phrases.To hear a foreigner cursing with a broken accent, especially one that doesnt cuss that much to begin with, I have to hand it to them, they broke me in. I caused a ruckus for most of the day.


Anyway, Im happy to oblige a few laughs on the occasion, and I was eager to start testing out my new vocabulary.
So back to Renaissance. I say to the girls, "Putain, quoi?"
And again, smiles and roaring laughter from everyone including the little old couple that was sitting just within earshot. "Desolee, madam, monsieur," I quickly add.

Then come the Flames. Apparently, the B52 is the house favorite. I had seen them serve these shots before, but as I am a respectable Drinker, yes with a capital D, I would never order this for myself. Much less be seen with anyone that would call this shot, to be perfectly honest.

So then out comes David our server, with a tray full of flames and then hands us straws. Now, Im not sure how I would expect to drink this shot since there is in fact Fire on top of it, but at the same time, putting plastic into a firey beverage doesnt seem like such a great idea either. Anyway, I went along with it, and it was, drumroll-- deeeelicious. Im sorry. I bow my head down in disgust at myself, but it was really good. Merde. I liked it. You know what this means...

Another round David!

Ladies and gentlemen, Id like to introduce The B52 and my new friends, Sonia and Sonia.