Back in 2012 I went on vacation to Paris with a few friends, we were all young men just looking for fun and to blow off some steam from work.

So we venture to all the Tourists Spots stupid Australian Tourists would go avoiding all the obvious tourist traps and shaking our heads at those that got caught. We were just dumb young adults then and thought ourselves better, at least that was until the night rolled in.

One of the guys suggested we hit up the Moulan Rouge this night and so off we went. We were having an absolute blast. Bar hopping and using our "Foreign Charm" and either striking out or getting lucky, soon it was just me and my friend left [we'll call him CJ].

Now both of us being the youngest of the group and having little experience with women at the time we kept to ourselves. That was until 2 absolute beautiful women WAAAAAY out of our league approached us, we talked, drank, and danced for a while before they told us about the best private club in Paris which they so happened to be members of. So our dumb dumb dumb idiot selves said yes to going with them. This is where we fucked up.

Now generally if you get led down various alleyways into seedier territory self preservation would kick in and scream run, Unfortunately for me and CJ we were thinking with the wrong head. We arrived outside an establishment with no windows and a single huge tatted up bouncer waiting outside, he let us and the girls in. As we entered the girls went behind the bar and disappeared leaving the poor fools of this story in an abandoned bar with: The Bartender and a table of about 6 "Distinguished" men one being the obvious leader, we will call him [BDM]. One of the men told us to come over. Well Fuck, we knew we messed up. The exchange of conversation from memory went a little like this:

[BDM] "Welcome to my Bar. You like my women".

Immediately I recognised the accent. Russian. Fuck.

[Me] "Ahhh yeah their very pretty".

Wrong Answer.

[BDM] "So you wanna sex them! She's my wife".

Goddamn it.

[CJ] "No mate we just thought they..."

The group start talking their language interrupting us. Yep. We're dead.

[BDM] "Are you Australian?".

We nod yes, terror sinking into my soul even deeper.

[BDM] " Then you can drink?".

We nod again and say yes.

From what I can remember before blacking out we spent and tipped an exorbitant amount of money on drinks at that place while we went shot for shot with these guys until the early hours of the next day and woke up in our hotel lobby, surprisingly still with our phones, wallets, and valuables.

When we inquired to the reception about how we got back we were told we were dropped off in a black SUV with 3 Distinguished Men that told the reception to "Be good to our Australian Friends". Thanking God we survived we returned to our rooms to tell the others our story and later when I checked my phone I had an extra contact number.

"Ruski Bro Bean". I never called that number.

TL;DR: Went on a Paris vacation and got tourist trapped by what I can assume to be a Russian gang, got saved by my Australian Accent.