It’s a universal truth — firemen are hot no matter the country. Last night we attended one of the many Firemen’s Balls held around the city. I didn’t know what to wear or what to expect.
Several fellow students congregated at our local bar to pre-party and then headed over to the fire station at 55 Boulevard de Port-Royal. We got there around 830p and were told we were too early. So we hung out and chatted with the security guard as more people joined the queue behind us. He had been to Vegas, SF, NYC, and Canada. We joked about Canadians being far more polite than Americans and Parisians.
Once inside, we saw the beautiful and grand open-air interior. We headed to the Chamapagne Bar and firemen gladly poured us glasses of bubbly. The DJ played present day hits and French versions of classics like “Oh What a Night.” The mood was light and fun, smiles at every turn. Around midnight we discovered freshly grilled sausages and the best fries around for that post-dance party hunger. As we exited we saw the line to enter the party now stretched for about a block. They were in for a treat, but it was time for me to go home.