Paris in the spring

It's still not too warm here. I haven't had warm weather since the first two weeks in Spain. The shirt I'm wearing smells like the room I had in Lisbon, but it's clean I think. C'est la vie.

I flew into Paris on Monday from Lisbon. Since I stayed in Spain for so long I didn' t want to spend the time to take the bus or train through the Basque country, even though it would have been nice to see Bilbao and San Sebastien. I also had been telling Paul and Roxanne I'd be here soon. The first time I said that was almost three weeks ago.

Paul and I (and Roxanne for a bit) walked around Paris most of the afternoon. i recognized a lot of the streets we were on and had a good idea where we were because of my last visit here a few years ago. It's a cool feeling being in a foreign city like Paris and kind of knowing it already.

We had lunch at one of the many kebab places here, and one of the guys working there, who also was the guy making our pita, was a total dick. Usually I most people here are polite when I speak my shitty french, and yeah I kept throwing some spanish in there, but fuck I just spent a month there and si and oui are so damn close. So finished making the pita and I asked him, "quatro euro?" He said something like Si quatre, but like I said before was a dick about it. I was apologetic and tried to tell him I was in Spain, but he didn't really care.

We made fun of the situation and I told Paul that I should smack him across the face with my white glove, tell him he insulted me, and challenge him to a duel, like Homer did in that episode of the Simpsons. We had a good laugh and Paul asked if I had a white glove on me. No but bitch slapping him would get the same point across, no? We ran with the dueling idea for a few more minutes and decided the weapons wouldn't be guns but knives. Since I didn't have one and Paul is my second in teh duel he'd have to lend me his.

OK. It's all set then. Outside the kebab place on the rainy street in the latin quarter with knives. Just the way gentleman do it. Well, when it all went down his blue haired wife came running out and told him to go see a doctor, but bhe told her the bone stopped the knife. He would go see the doctor after mince meat pie.

So really happened was we ate the pita and talked shit about the guy then left.