It's been awhile since I've posted anything but to be fair nothing has really occurred. My grandparents came for a weekend and I spent that time galavanting around Paris taking advantage of lots of different tourist attractions and eating delicious meals. A waiter at one café exclaimed after talking to me for a few minutes about where I was from that he was going to marry me and go live in America. Upon discovering I was in Paris until May, he wrote his phone number down on a receipt and gave it to me. He never gave me his name. I haven't called.
Otherwise I have nothing to report, which is why I will dedicate this post to the fascinating social group that is Parisian metro riders.
To the Parisian metro-riding constituents:
I would like to inform you all that with the end of M.C. Hammer's reign in the pop culture realm, so came the end of parachute pants. Parachute pants have gone the way of shoulder pads and Surge, placed in the category of "things that should never ever ever resurface." Please go buy a normal pair of pants.
Your heart-felt sob story that you've just recited those sharing your metro car about how you tried to get your degree but fell onto hard times and someone stole all of your money/worldly possessions and you just need some money or a restaurant ticket so you can eat is not particularly moving when you're barking it at everyone from your position in front of the doors. If you haven't noticed, most of us are desperately trying to avoid eye contact.
However, this does not mean that we will give you money if you don't have a speech. Those of you who come up to metro riders and shover your hand in their faces with no explanation as to why you are doing so are not likely to be rewarded.
These are just some of the ridiculous things I must call people out on. Others include but are not limited to: drunkenly smoking cigarettes in metro cars (which is very much not allowed), the mohawk I saw yesterday that actually didn't fit under the door without him ducking, and the pair of girls I saw the other night swigging from wine bottles, playing the harmonica, and dancing around in sort of circles arm in arm.
I'm off to Berlin this weekend so I will hopefully have some fun stories for everyone.
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