This morning I landed in Paris after a surprisingly not-excruciating flight from Dallas to London and then a short trip across the channel to Paris. Of course when I am waiting at baggage claim, I hear a voice over the intercom:
"Weel the fowh-lo-weeng pa-sahn-gerrrrr pleez ree-porrh too thee desque: loo-wize" (Translation: Will the following passenger please report to the desk: Lewis"
Wait, what? Who is "loo-wize"? Ohhh, that's me. The arrival of my luggage has been delayed for a couple of hours. Now it's 9pm (or 21:00) and still no bags.
I have managed to make an ass out of myself atleast say 2 times in the course of 1 hour. First I, with my scarf flailing in the wind, ran down a van that parked outside of the apartment, asking the man if he was from the airport. He, very confusingly, responded "non". Then, the mailman asked if I was drunk when I asked him in broken french if he was delivering my bags.
Looking on the bright side, the apartment I am sharing with Christine, Sydney, and Jessica is charmingly French. We even have to light our stove and oven with a match each time of use. Now some of you know my aversion to all things fire. Needless to say, I will not be doing this myself. I don't want to be the one to explode the apartment.
You poor thing! I made an ass of myself at Dallas Love I haven't even reached Paris! All of my suitcases fell off my cart! Everyone turned to stare! I can't wait to see your apt! P.S. Don't worry after about 5 months of making asses ourselves we won't care anymore. At least you know more French than me...
ReplyDeleteHaha I will be even worse when I go to like Prague and shit where the language is nothing REMOTELY like English. I hope your bags show up soon! And I would die if I had to light a match ever in my life. I totally sympathize.
ReplyDeletehhahaha you drunkbitch asking the mailman for bags, I am so excited for this blog, Vicarious living is the best.
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