Parisians sure do love their techno music—at least, the club-going lot does. Me, not so much.

I went to a club called Le Cab last night with a girl I met through Craiglist when we were considering finding a place together (and she didn’t turn out to be a con artist or dirty perv!) and her friend from school. We got in for free and managed to jump the long queue by sheer luck. However, when I ordered a drink from the bar, I was charged 15€ for a rum and Coke! That is the most expensive drink I have every ordered from a club.

The guys at the club seemed more interested in dancing than hitting on girls, which was somewhat refreshing. However, their elaborate dance moves resulted in me getting elbowed in the head a couple of times. When certain techno songs came on, the crowd would go crazy, as they knew the DJ, the melody, the beats. At one point, I heard Chris Isaak’s “Wicked Game” turned into electronic beeps and boops. I actually got excited when Britney Spears’ “Womanizer” came on the speakers just because it was familiar pop music, and that’s just sad.

The worst part of the night was trying to get our jackets back from the coat check, around which dozens of people swarmed nearing the end of the night. It was basically a mosh pit, where people’s sweaty bodies were pressed tightly against each other, feeling, er… bits being rubbed up against them by a stranger. It took about 45 minutes to get our jackets back and then exit the mob of club-goers.

I guess I should try to enjoy the techno music at clubs rather than long for the pop and hip hop music I’m used to in Canada. When in Paris, dance as the Parisians do—that is, sort of badly.