Monday, December 16, 2013

Metro Bitch

This past weekend I felt like a real social gal once again, having spent the past couple of weeks so busy with teaching and school that I wasn't the socialite I usually prefer to be. Friday evening I had my first real Parisian ladies night. My friend from language exchange (yes it's true, sometimes language exchange is truly for exchanging languages! ) had a small birthday gathering and invited me to join. Though exhausted from the week and knowing I had three more students the following day, I had a wonderful time celebrating at a restaurant near Pigalle (the red light district) with some Parisian ladies. They mainly obliged me by speaking English most of the time, but I was also able to pull out a few phrases of spotty French.

Saturday night I met up with my Scottish friend who I met during my teaching program two years ago. Our (or at least my) original intention to have two or three casual drinks turned into a revelry of decadent bar hopping (Aussie bar, French bar, Scottish bar) which culminated in the most disgusting bottle of unidentified red wine that I've ever tasted.

During my excessive jaunts, however, I was keenly reminded of one very important thing. No matter how calm, cool, and collected I pretend to be while wandering about and no matter how many countries I live in or how often I take public transportation, I really do turn into a heinous bitch when commuting about town. People are just so intensely unaware of their surroundings that I seem to metamorph into a raging monster who wants to violently push people from subway platforms for merely daring to invade my personal space and/or not walking fast enough. One of my friends in Paris two years ago was a constant soundboard for my transit rants... My trants? He soon realized that me being late via transit problems usually resulted in outrageous diatribes and me refusing to apologize for any subsequent behaviour until given some sort of treat... One of my language partners now actually keeps getting a small earful whenever I am late after getting stuck in a nexus of tourism...

Now, some people are legitimate idiots... the common rules of courteous decency are not abided by and you wonder what planet they must have grown up on other than ours. Pole hogs, for example... why are you wrapping your entire body around a pole that twenty other people need to hold so they won't go flying through the train car when the subway comes to an abrupt halt?! In Paris there are also seats in every car that fold up, so the unspoken rule is that when the car becomes too full you stand up, allowing more room and comfort for the many. However, there are always those who just continue sitting, feigning obliviousness to all those around them. Now, I'm no hypocrite... I acknowledge that I am sure I also walk around in a nice little bubble most of the time, texting on my phone while casually walking into random passersby or stopping mid-pedestrian traffic amidst geographic confusion, halting the path of all those behind me. But I do try... I do really try...

No comments:

Post a Comment