Posts Tagged ‘men’

What Did I Do?

Wednesday, August 8th, 2012

I am currently sitting in my apartment, attempting not to move or do anything that may result in some sort of outcome. Writing this is risking everything. I really don’t know why the universe is against me but it is. And it is MEAN. Horribly mean. It keeps kicking me in the shin, right on the bone. I keep asking it nicely to stop but will it? NO! Instead it ups the anti and throws something even worse at me. I am contemplating just going to bed and giving up on today because at least that way I might not get hit by a bus or break my leg. But then again, with my current luck, a bus will probably somehow find a way to drive into the building, up two flights of stairs, along the corridor, through my door, up to the mezzanine and BAM! Got her!

Right, so I have already explained the spilt soap story which then led to my money being eaten by the machine. At 10.30am, I was told that the machine was working again and so I went downstairs to the laundry and inserted more money. It wasn’t working. So back I went and told the girl that it, in fact, was still broken, to which she was quite surprised but wrote herself a note to ask someone else to have a look at it. She would let me know when it was fixed. Goodo.

At lunchtime I hadn’t heard anything so I asked if there had been any progress but no, a technician had been called. At 2.30pm I received another email saying that the technician had come and the machine was fixed. Excellent! I was outside working at the time so I packed up my things, came inside, went back downstairs, inserted more money… Of course, it didn’t work and I now have 5 Euros stuck in the machine. Fantastic. Back upstairs I went where I was told that she had seen a man leave the general vicinity of the laundry and she had presumed it was the technician and that he had fixed it. Apparently not.

By now it was 3pm and I wanted to get my washing done so I put it all into my shopping trolley and walked to a laundromat in a street nearby where they had a long row of machines, all of them available, all of them working. I did manage to choose number 13 without realising it but figured it just made sense. I sat around and read a book as my clothes got washed and then headed back home, happy to have clean underwear.


Number 13 worked remarkably well considering my luck today.

To get from the laundromat and my apartment, I only had to walk on two streets. Surely nothing significant could happen in those three minutes. WRONG. As I walked along, my shoe came off so I had to stop and put it back on again (that isn’t the significant thing). As I did this, a guy who was tall and relatively good looking walked past me, and then turned around and started talking to me. I was at a stage where I’d probably have spoken to anyone because I had clean washing and nothing bad had happened in the last 20 minutes. So when he asked me if I was doing the shopping I said no, and that I had just done my washing blah blah, where are you from, Australia is a nice country… etc etc. He spoke English, he seemed normal and didn’t appear to be a COMPLETE sleaze.

We reached my place and I said goodbye and he continued to chat for a little while and he seemed like a genuinely nice person. Then when I started to leave he kind of moved towards me, which is just annoying and unnecessary but I decided it would just be easier to do the French two-kiss thing and then run away. So I turned my head to enough of an angle to have that happen but then this weird, pathetic look of “Oh you are so bootifulll” came over him, as he then attempted to kiss me on the lips. NOOOOOOOOOO WWAAAYYYYYY!!!!! I pushed him away and walked off, seriously annoyed at myself for getting into that position. But why, why, why did he go and do that? What was he thinking?? Is he INSANE? Because up until that point, I was actually enjoying myself but then he turned into a creepy Frenchman and thought I’d want to kiss him after knowing him for an entire three minutes.

It did result in me briefly bursting into tears once inside the safety of my convent because I felt so abused. I know it isn’t THAT bad but still… who wants strange men kissing them randomly on streets? Not I. Maybe this will mean I will never find myself a nice French man but I really, really hope there are some who aren’t creeps and who don’t think that’s an ok thing to do. I am now completely turned off all men. Maybe that is what the point of today was – to make me feel good about being single. Actually no, because if I had a boyfriend then I wouldn’t have to worry about meeting someone and therefore wouldn’t have stupidly decided that talking to random strange men was an ok idea… Please make today STOP.

Reason Why I Am Grumpy With Paris Today #2

Monday, June 18th, 2012

After my fun adventures at OfficeDepot I then went to Franprix to buy a bag of rocket. The girl at the checkout was as amazingly happy to serve me as usual. I then walked outside and stood at the traffic lights to cross the road. A random guy walked up to me and said “Bonjour!” I gave him a “Yes, hello but goodbye” half-smile and he then proceeded to attempt chatting me up by discussing the fact that I was carrying a bag of rocket.

“Having a salad, are you?”
“Will you serve it with a vinaigrette or something?”
“Ahhh… probably.”
“Yes… that will be very nice (something, something, something in French that I didn’t understand.)”
“OK, goodbye now!”

I then walked for approximately three minutes to get to my apartment, during which time I had four French men either say “Bonjour” or just look at me from head to toe. Sometimes this is flattering, other times (such as just after battling grumpy, useless and rude OfficeDepot staff) I just want to punch them. Maybe I complain too much or am up myself but AARRRRGGGGGG!!! Today it was all too much and I have decided it is best to just stay inside and hide.

BFFs with the Baker

Sunday, January 8th, 2012

I forgot to mention a significant event that occurred over the recent galette season that has further solidified my position as loyal customer at my favourite boulangerie. When I went with Ben to buy our second galette for the day and two baguettes for our lunch, we arrived at the boulangerie to find it was jam packed with customers buying sandwiches for their lunches. The queue was reaching out the door and the bakery lady was running around serving people with efficiency and speed. I turned to Ben with a gleeful smile and declared that I would be able to jump the queue and receive my baguettes without having to wait in line. “Watch this.”

The bakery lady continued to serve two or so customers until she noticed me and made a call out across the bakery that anyone wanting to only buy bread should “Advancez!” to the cash register. My moment of glory! I excusez-moi-ed my way past people waiting to be served, held my head high and said “Bonjour!” to the bakery lady. She had already prepared my usual baguette for which I thanked her before then asking for a second baguette. I was nervous about my next request as I had declared that I simply wanted a baguette and that I would be leaving her establishment as soon as I had received it, but really I also wanted to buy another galette. So in my politest and most “You are so wonderful” voice I asked, “What it be possible that I also take a small galette?”
“But, of course!” she replied as she dashed over to the galettes and returned within a split second to take my money and wish me a good day.


A mini galette to finish off lunch

And so I strode out of the boulangerie, two baguettes and one galette in hand, having avoided waiting in line and being served before at least 15 other customers. I have to say I prefer the relationship I have developed with my bakery lady over the creepy lean-over-the-counter-and-stare-with-seedy-eyes I received on my return to another bakery I have to go to on Sundays or when I am feeling lazy. It appears the man in charge at this other bakery was pleased to have the foreign blonde girl back in his shop.

This does lead me to another point which is that I was instantly aware of my return to the land of Frenchmen as Becky and I headed out on our jog the morning after I got back and were wolf-whistled and had eyes stuck to us like magnets. I can’t say I missed it and it was nice to have two weeks in Germany and Holland where no one seems to find me visually pleasing. Although having fat old Frenchmen declaring that, oh la la!, we are “courageuse” and “sportif” can be quite amusing.

Photo Selection

Friday, July 15th, 2011

Yesterday Tom and I went to the Bastille Day Parade. Well… we tried to. They had blocked off so many roads and the metro wasn’t stopping in the middle of the Champs Elysee so we had to walk a long way and didn’t get very far with the masses of people doing the same thing. We managed to see a bit of the parade, including the Foreign Legion which was the bit I wanted to see anyway. My photo of the bearded axe-men has been selected by the U.S. Yahoo Editorial to appear in their Bastille Day collection. Considering they only selected 17 images from all of Flickr, I’m rather pleased! Here’s the photo for your own enjoyment:

Bastille Day Parade

Look at those impressive beards!