day 7, pt. 1 (commençante)

so another roomate has returned, isabel*, and an unhappy issue has arisen for me. i guess when four girls who are friends (and girlfriends, too, as the case may be) go in on an apartment together, there is probably a share and share alike mentality. mi casa es su casa. and maybe mi la laitère mousse au chocolat noir es su la laitère mousse au chocolat noir? well, no…not when that mousse au chocolat noir is my damn mousse au chocolat noir.

i went to the fridge to get one, and my three remaining had dwindled to two. crap. then the next day, i found that someone had opened the tub of butter i bought and used that. okay—no biggie. not like i was gonna use a whole tub of butter in a month. but that same day, i went in to shower, and someone had gone into my soap container and used my sliver of dove down to a nub. it was still all wet and smooshy. fuckballs.

i don’t want to seem like a bitch or anything, but i’m working off a pretty tight budget here. i can’t really spare soap and mousse and God knows what all else for these girls, ya know? i’m going to try to keep more things in my room, but that can only go so far. i swear, if somebody starts eating my pâturages yogurt in saveur noix de coco, God help that heifer.

the day i went into the kitchen and discovered that my butter had been opened and used, i knew because said butter was just sitting out on the table. open. not just the butter, either. there was also a container of milk just sitting out. open. this is something that i’m finding to be very parisian. open-nicity. you know that typically french long loaf of bread? people really buy that and just walk around with it. open. no kind of packaging or covering. just all walking down the street and getting on the train with open bread. like it’s somehow impervious to touching or sneezing or what have you.

i also saw a woman sitting on a park bench not far from my building…with her boob out. she was feeding her baby, of course, but her boob was out in the open. no kind of discretion or little modesty blanket or anything. just BOOB. OPEN. sheesh…who needs the moulin rouge?

you can also have an open container (of beer) here. in the states, that will get you a fine or maybe even arrested. here? eff it—enjoy your booze! right on the subway, if you like. oh—and bring your dog with you on the subway while you’re at it. this is paris, and paris is open to such things. just open, open, open. well, unless you’re a store and it’s after 8pm, at which point, all bets are off.

*not her real name



Filed under life, paris, travel

3 responses to “day 7, pt. 1 (commençante)

  1. ADM3

    Maybe you need to initial your stuff so it won’t get eaten, you know, like at work? Not that you would initial your soap! So that stuff mos def keep in your room!

  2. Susannah

    Hey look at it this way – the more soap they steal, the less they will smell

  3. piratejanny

    L to the O to the L!!!!!

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