Bowling et Karting

Two weeks ago before the Halloween vacations began, a few friends (Marie, Yamina, and Laurence) and I planned a day-trip to the bowling alley. Today, we went. The bowling alley did not open until 14h00, so we had a little bit of a wait. When the doors finally opened, Marie, as she had warned us before-hand, charged ahead of the stampede of people crowded at the door's entrance; therefore, she was first in the line and we were able to play our game of bowling before everyone else! We had so much fun! I won, but I just barely broke one hundred. After that we decided to go go-karting (it's just called "le karting" in French). Unfortunately, we had to wait almost an hour for the arena to open. During this time, we took a kaboodle of photos (although Yamina would prefer that none of pictures of her go online).

We purchased two rounds of karting. Sadly, I wasn't able to use my camera because we looked hysterical! Since go-karting is relatively dangerous, we had top wear helmets, but underneath our helmats, we wore cafeteria lady-type hair nets for sanitation purposes! Ironically, there were no seat belts. The first go-around, I came in third place, after two other people who I didn't know who raced against us. The second time I knew how to better handle the go-kart. This time we raced against a group of about five boys. I can proudly say that I passed all of them and came in first place! Say hello to the new Danica Patrick! (I can't believe that I even know who she is!) When we stepped off of the race course, the man who worked there congratulated me for whizzing past all of the boys! I then had a group of guys who looked to be thirteen or fourteen start talking to me. I think they were saying pretty much the same thing that the first man had said, but I couldn't understand because they were all talking at once, so I looked at Marie and asked her what they were saying. She then told them that I am American, so they responded with the typical, "Oh, t'es belle! Je t'aime, l'Americaine!" I was honestly more interested in what they were saing before. Part of me hates being stereotyped as an American, but the other part of me just wishes that the French could be more creative reaction-wise when they discover that I am American.

Honestly, I love being the American in France! It's the best excuse for anything since "my dog ate my homework!"