Wednesday, April 19, 2006

Eau no

Just came back from a lovely evening involving cocktails at an outdoor cafe with fellow expatriate girlfriends and leisurely conversation in French, followed by a stroll across the Pont des Arts. Arrived home after a long metro ride, took down the dog for her nightly walk, came back, put on flannel striped PJs and fuzzy slippers, went to brush my teeth, water's been cut. It's 11pm.

Tried shower, kitchen faucet and flushing toilet, all out.

In a tizzy, ran out the door, hopped in the elevator to check to see if there was a note downstairs, explaining the situation, thinking there would be no danger of bumping into any neighbors at 11pm. As soon as the elevator door shut though, I heard the beeping of the doorcode outside.

There I was, trapped.

I had no choice. I bravely walked out of the elevator, took a deep breath, proudly greeted my downstairs neighbor who was just returning from her job as a hotel receptionist, and explained they had cut the water in the building and I was just very quickly coming downstairs to see if I could find an explanation for it.

All the while looking her right in the eye, seeing her struggle to keep her gaze from falling to my flannel striped PJs and fuzzy slippers.

It's just not done here.

I feel shame.


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