ALORS...
So, ahem, fuck Parisian laundromats. Fuck 'em up, down, left, right, fuck 'em six ways from Sunday. B and I were so foiled today, and it all started with the laundromat (the ENTIRE laundromat) being broken this morning. I was reminded several times over why I'm so happy to be going home to California...I love being here with B, but that's to B's credit, not Paris's.
So let me break it down.
We wake up and I try to do our laundry but the whole laundromat doesn't work because Parisian laundromats all operate off of a central machine bolted to the wall but it doesn't work and the two women sitting there waiting for the guy to show up to fix it fail to mention that fact to me so I lose four euro down the slot before I pipe up with a "il y a une problème?" and find out what's going on so I go back to the apartment with a giant thing of dirty laundry and our schedule is all screwed so we decide to go to the catacombs anyway and it's SUPER WEIRD, you guys, with a 40 minute wait in line and then a 500 meter walk and then a giant, well, catacomb full of hundreds of thousands of bones and it takes like forty minutes just to walk through it all and then we use my last two metro tickets and get back to the apartment and then we have to go back out and do Xmas shopping and then back again and then back out for dinner and the FUCKING CAFÉ I'd been planning on taking B to the whole time is closed so we eat fried duck at this cheapo place down the street and we FINALLY make it back and watch the last episode of Top Chef season 3 and stupid ass-wipe HUNG wins even though we totally knew he would. LAME.
But. Before Top Chef and after dinner. We walk back. And B remembers that I have said that the Ile St. Louis is famous for ice cream. So we get two scoops each from a funny dude in a little place. And it is absolutely delicious.
So fuck the laundromat, fuck closed cafés, fuck how exhausting this stupid city is, but let's hear it from the Maison de Berthillon and the delicious ice cream they make.
Whew.
(Actually, I thought the catacombs were pretty dope. Oh, and "our relationship is built on retribution and defiance" is part of a conversation B and I were having earlier while we were giggling about stuff.)
3 comments:
Bravo for writing a post in which I can almost hear your voice telling the story. No small feat. See you soon!!
yay for the ending ice cream and having B with you! Agreed on the Paris attitude. I will be moving to Toulouse but never back to Paris.
See you guys soon!!!! :)
I suppose the ensemble you're wearing in the catacombs picture would be an odd fit for such a band, but I was thinking that it would make a great inner sleeve photo for the next time you're in a band where it's appropriate for you to be standing in front of a wall of human bones, smiling as if to say "Not bad for a day's work, eh?"
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