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First off, just let me say that C.S. is a down azz b.i. for coming with me to Paris. We spent almost the entire two weeks walking throughout the city. Yeah, we did take the Metro up to Montmarte and then to Cligancourt, but otherwise we kept it gully by doing the Timberland two-step, or should I say the Adidaslide. Homegirl is a genius for subletting an apartment in Paris that was literally in the center of the city. The area was called Saint Germain and we were right across the street from Notre Dame.

I used the trip to Paris to debut a few new pairs of Adidas I had copped from the store in NYC. NIKE and I had been going through some problems. I saw NIKE hanging a lot with the younger set. I felt like I was being told that I wasn’t wanted anymore. My phone calls weren’t being returned, my letters and e-mails had gone unanswered. Maybe it was time to move on. We had some great times together me and NIKE, but that was all in the past now. Adidas seemed more mature too. We did have a previous relationship back in the day too. That’s part of the reason I came all the way to Paris. I wanted to see if I could find my old lover, the all leather ROD LAVERs. If I could find them then I might be able to make this relationship work.

C.S. and I decided to walk along the Seine River to the Museo de Louvre. There was an Adidas flagship store along the way. I might be able to find the LAVERs there. If not we could skip our way to the Champs Elysees. The Champs is probably the sickest shopping strip on the planet. Only Milan might be able to hold a candle to it. I hate to sound generic, but the only time I have entered a Gap store is on the Champs. The Gap stores in the States never have the leather goods that this store carries. Corinthian leather messenger bags and split suede espadrilles(no brokeback). Even the stores mannequins are wrapped with butter soft, hand sewn leather too. It was just digusting and I loved it.

When I entered the Adidas store I could feel that I had everyone’s attention. It’s not like in the States where people are double clutching their purses, but more like a “Sacre Bleu! This Negro is big!” To my amazement it wasn’t my girth that had everyone on my shit this time. It was my shoes. The Adidas P.T.76 was a gift from G.A.M.E. Rebellion for getting them the hookup to do an in-store concert with Adidas. These fools in the Paris Adidas store hadn’t even seen this shoe. For a sneaker freak like myself that is like the equivalent of being shipwrecked on an island full of HALLE BERRYs. If I had more than a pedestrian knowledge of francais I probably could have convinced the sales girl to blow me, or at least got to stick my tongue down her throat. Anyhoo, I wasn’t here for all that. I needed the ROD LAVERs all leather navy bottoms hommes size 47! Damn, no dice.

But since C.S. speaks Haitian French she was able to get me the scoop on another sneaker store close to the Eiffel Tower. On our way to the Tower we found this crepe cart with the best freshly made crepes in the city. In Paris, the crepe is the equivalent to the NYC waterized hot dog in ubiquity only. While the water dog might give you disintery, the crepe tastes just like sex only with a way better smell. This old Parisian made the crepes the classic way too. He poured the batter onto the hot griddle and shaped the pancake widely and thin. I asked ol’ boy to put the nutella spread and Gran Marnier on my joint. He laced me with the G.M. so well that I was drunk for the rest of the evening.

The next store was similiar to any of the mall format sneaker joints over here. I hate when a store has thirty pairs of the same exact shoe on display. I’m like, “O.K. I get it you have THIS shoe, but do you have it in the lapis colorway?” When I see a hundred pairs of the same shoe I am less likely to buy it on the strength that there will be some square wearing the same shoe that I have. Yeah, I may be a sneaker geek freak, but dammit, my style has pride attached to it.

I knew there was another reason that I brought C.S. along with me for the trip. She has the werewithall to convince me that I should just wait to copp something exclusey and choice and not rush to buy something just because its in my face. She understands the nature of my obessive compulsion and she helps me to keep it in check. I decide that I can wait until tomorrow to take over the world. She agrees with me.