Everybody in my feed appears to be in France for Paris Fashion Week. I suppose that’s what happens when you’re following a bunch of clothing companies in a moderately successful attempt to get free clothes. More on that eventually, I’m sure.
I like Paris but everybody smokes, and to date it has the only subway on which I have been robbed. It was also very hot when I last went, and my girlfriend at the time got really sick on the trip, so I had to wander around on my own for most of it. While taking her into the Parisian Emergency Room, I noticed an Ocular Emergency Room next door, for eye-related injuries. I thought to myself, “What an oddly specific thing. Why would they need that?” but over the next two hours, it proved more popular than the regular ER by orders of magnitude. People were getting wheeled in like ten to one. I suppose it was Bastille Day.
Another funny thing is, after hours of sitting on a gurney unattended, my ex just got up and left the hospital. A month or so later, we got a letter, in french of course, which we presumed was a bill for just bailing on their facilites. Translating it word by word, it turned out to be a very grave warning that she may have been exposed to measles in the waiting room. She’d be fine if she had been vaccinated, probably. Except then she wasn’t sure if she had been vaccinated, because her hippy dad had forged all her records as a baby. You have to laugh.
So why do I like Paris? It sounds a bit miserable. Well, I got this cool Tintin bag! Here I am showing off the bag and my inability to keep my eyes open for a photo, outside the Louvre!
