Paris : Day 7 – Bathroom Rescue

Just about every fast food joint or American-style coffee shop in Paris is a clusterfuck.  This is a given.  The high-turnover nature of the service, combined with the perception of it being an oasis for weary, homesick Americans looking for a place to regroup and argue over how the Metro works and which line would be best make it so.  Side note : from experience, the woman is always right in these arguments.  This is not ass-kissing to the ladies : I stand by my assertion that their driving directional skills are suspect – but for some reason, they’ve got mass transit down.

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Paris : Day 4 – Meet Hermione

The day started off like just about every one of them over here; awakening to the clatter of keys immediately outside my door somewhere around 8am.  I don’t know who is living in the flat next to me, but I can only assume they stalk the streets of Paris at night, murdering innocents, and adding their house keys to their KeyRing of Death as trophies.  Because that shit is getting louder every night.  I Continue reading

because you have nothing better to do.