Darcy's Paris Blog

A weird day, but a great night

Somewhere between sleep and awake this morning, I had a minor panic attack. No, my Paris address wasn’t in my purse – I don’t think so – was it? But there was a copy of the apartment key in there, and they have my name, so could they track down where I live? But I’m renting short-term, so no, I wouldn’t show up in any address book. But wait, I get mail here though – does that mean they could find the address and just let themselves in? After enough of that, I decided I wasn’t leaving the apartment again until the locks were changed. I made a few phone calls, first to my landlord to make sure it was ok and then to locksmiths – in French, mind you – which generally went ok until they started asking lots of questions about the type of lock I have. One place nearby figured out I speak English and passed me to a nice man; when I told him I wanted an estimate first, he sent out somebody who told me it would be 260 euro. People at the office thought no more than 200, so I called another place, but when they said 400, I called back the 260 euro place and made an appointment for later that day. Finally mid-afternoon, I had a brand-new, industrial-strength lock on the front door, and I ventured out to get cash, the one thing I didn’t have but needed. The people answering the phone at my credit card company were pretty unhelpful – “just go to any bank with a MasterCard sign outside” – but they didn’t realize that there aren’t any of those in France, and I was nearly laughed out of the one bank where I tried. So finally I called back and got someone who told me that someone from my home phone in Austin could call their number and reset my pin, so that I could pull cash from an ATM with that pin. So I called Dad and sent him to my Austin apartment with strict instructions on how to call and reset my pin. Finally, near 5:00, I had cash. Voila! A whole day wasted just to get a new lock and cash, but oh, well, welcome to France. Things just don’t move as quickly here.

I metro’d in to French class – nothing eventful there – but I was excited about my post-class date with Jimi, the guy from the Italian restaurant. He lives in the Marais near my class, and I was going to meet him at a nearby English pub to watch a big football match. The match was fun – the crowd was totally into it – and there was some decent chemistry between the two of us. The match was over, but we kept ordering more rounds and talking about all kinds of stuff – music, cycling, etc. Turns out we have a lot in common, and the conversation was probably the best I’ve had since I’ve been in France. Before I knew it, it was 1 AM, and time for me to get home. He really wanted me to come watch the football match tomorrow, so I should call him if I could come, or even if I couldn’t, still call him… We did the French kiss-kiss cheek thing, and I did notice that he was a little closer to the front than on the side. (Something I learned from Daniel, my close friend from Mexico City, is that you can tell if there’s interest there by how close to the mouth they get. Very useful information.) Not sure if I can make the football tomorrow, but I’m damn sure gonna try…

posted by Darcy @ 11:41 PM