Bastille D—no just kidding. This first. Which was actually more interesting

I was ready to "turn up."

You guys, I had been anticipating this day since I signed up for the program:

14/7. 

Fête Nationale.

Bastille Day.

I mean, really. If you translate it a certain way it's "National Party."

I was wondering what they would do in Paris.

Do police officers give out champagne on the streets?

Is all of Paris just some big parade?

Ohh wait. I'll stop here.

I swear. I keep almost forgetting some of the best things.

So before we get to Bastille Day, I should tell you all about this:

Le Bal des Pompiers. 

It's the thirteenth and fourteenth of July at various locations in Paris. It's basically a bunch of free concerts where you can give a donation for the firefighters (pompiers). 

I went with some of the group the night we got back from Giverny. It was the day before Bastille Day. Actually, it was Bastille Day by the time we left.

Me being me, I got there later than a lot of the group, but luckily I found JD in the line. 

When we got in, it was one big crowd of folks and a stage. Soon we found some of the group and we waited for some other girls still in line.

Soon we were all together.

JD decided to get some fries, and he came back with ketchup and a white sauce.

The white sauce?

Mayonnaise.

Yeah, they eat that on their fries there. 

It's a thing.

Anyways, the music playing was interesting. 

When I got there, I heard a lot of MJ (he is so popular here) and other old school stuff. Before the night was over I heard "Rollin' on the River."

But there was some new stuff too. 

I heard "The Harlem Shake," a horrible rendition of "American Boy" and of course, "Niggas in Paris."

Toward the start of the night, we got involved in a long, convoluted conga line, but the best part of the night was the performance by the firemen. 

They started doing some type of stepping, military-ish looking moves. You know, not super interesting.

But then...

Then they started playing MJ.

Now...

I want you to think of every Michael Jackson song you know.

OK. Next, I'd like you to picture a group of French firemen.

OK.

Now, single out one of those firemen. Let's say he's a bald, muscular serious-looking guy.

Good. Good.

OK, next.

Read this.

So, one of the fireman in the middle (bald serious guy) soon became a reincarnation of Michael Jackson.

I'm talking, shiny jacket, white gloves, dance moves.

Merde.

I wish I wrote this earlier. I'd remember more details about how awesome this guy was.

Anyways, he was the main act. The other firefighters were sorta his back up.

"Smooth Criminal," "Beat it," "Thriller."

"Moon walks, pelvic thrusts, more pelvic thrusts."

All that and more, folks. All that and more.

It was entertaining to say the least.

Anyways, after their act, the power went out. Soon, the not-so-great cover band was back and we figured we should head out.

It's a bit of a "Cinderella" thing with me and the other kids in the program.

The last metro runs sometime around 1, I think, so we all had to head back before it closed and we were stuck with a taxi.

As we were leaving, we saw a huge line of folks heading in.

The party was just starting. 

Anyways, it was after midnight now. I sat in a seat on metro ligne 13, waiting to reach Malakoff Plateau de Vanves.

Soon I was there, and sometime between sitting on the metro and walking back to my host mom's house I realized...

It's Bastille Day. 

P.S.

MJ is on the far left, in case the shimmering jacket and white gloves weren't enough of a hint.