Am I supposed to hate the French?
Ahhh la France. 'They' hate us, 'we' hate them. They meaning the French and we meaning Americans. Or that's how it's supposed to go apparently. Here's what happened while I was in France:
DAY 1 - Saturday
1. On the train to London, I just happened to bump into this kid named Carl. He was the one who did a Jamaican poem in the ACS show a while back[even though he's Nigerian! man, do they need me to represent??]; when he found out I was Jamaican, he kept asking if he was saying stuff right[he was pretty good]. Anyway, I kept seeing him here and there around Bath and I know he knows that I know him, so finally the night before, I had seen him in town when I was going out, and in my alcohol-induced haze, decided enough was enough and stopped him on the street and introduced meself. He told me he was going to London the next day too[the Sat.] and so good luck would have it that we'd see each other cuz having someone to talk to certainly makes that hour and a half trip to Paddington shorter. At the end of the trip, I got his number[since I still don't know mine yet!] and of course he bust out with two fones! What's with these people....
2. As I was going thru the security checkpoint at London Heathrow, a loud BLEEEEEPPP could be heard as my bag went thru the X-ray machine so I knew there was trouble. Apparently, I had accidentally brought a pair of ridiculously sharp scissors along with a ridiculously sharp nail file in my carry-on luggage. So you know them bitches was confiscated. And dammit! Those were my FAVORITE scissors!! They were so sharp. I learned then that I can have that stuff, but they must be in my checked luggage, not carry-on. At this point, I make a mental note to put the souvenir lighter I bought I London in my checked luggage for when I go back home.
2. Got to Paris...it was 9:30pm...yet the sun was still freaking up!! It was just setting at 10pm by the time I got to the train station at the airport to buy my ticket. I started practicing my Francais right away. Actually, I didn't get to practice that much because as soon as she picked up on the fac that English was my first language, she bust out with the English too. Got my ticket and proceeded to the train station that was tainted with a lovely urine odor. HMMMMMM. Saw TONS of black people everywhere.
3. As I got to the connecting point where I was to take the Metro, a girl sat down beside me and I saw she was holding a bunch of maps. I asked if she spoke English and asked her where she got the maps. She offered me one since she had a few, for which I was udderly grateful. We got to talking and realized we were going to the exact same hostel. yay! cuz I was getting kinda nervous as it was late at night. Her name is Elizabeth and she is from Kentucky. She was mad cool and she would become my roll dog for Paris.
4. Got to the hostel. It was late, but we could tell the neighborhood wasn't too hot, ya heard. But we checked in, dropped our stuff off, and decided we were both hungry so we were gonna wander around the 'hood and see what we could find. The only thing open was some convenience store. As we stood outside talking, three French guys passed us and then shouted "WE HATE AMERICANS." UGH! WHAT A BITCH!! I then replied "WE HATE YOU TOO." Elizabeth laughed and said not to get us killed in France. Now, I really didn't mean for that to be my reply, because really, I have not a damn thing against the French. And I wish most people know that most Americans could give two shits about hating the French...theyre too busy for that mess. I really wanted to say "HOW DO YOU KNOW IM NOT CANADIAN?" Damn him! He's lucky I dunno how to cuss in French cuz I certainly wouldve given him a piece of my mind. And as a consolation, I know no one likes the French either, so I was happy.
5. Got some crackers/cookies, went back to hostel and agreed we'd go see the sites together. Said goodnite and I went to use the showers. 1. The bathroom had NO hand soap available. Umm, isn't that some sort of health violation?? But Im not surprised, cuz I was told that France still had toilets that were literally holes in the ground, so their lack of hygiene doesn't surprise me. 2. The faucets were the type that you had to push and then some water would come out, then stop. Turns out the shower was the same!! Now I would have to take a shower, pressing the button repeatedly while Im in there! Weird....but one positive was that the water pressure was REALLY good, so it was actually a pretty refreshing shower.
Next day, off to explore!
DAY 1 - Saturday
1. On the train to London, I just happened to bump into this kid named Carl. He was the one who did a Jamaican poem in the ACS show a while back[even though he's Nigerian! man, do they need me to represent??]; when he found out I was Jamaican, he kept asking if he was saying stuff right[he was pretty good]. Anyway, I kept seeing him here and there around Bath and I know he knows that I know him, so finally the night before, I had seen him in town when I was going out, and in my alcohol-induced haze, decided enough was enough and stopped him on the street and introduced meself. He told me he was going to London the next day too[the Sat.] and so good luck would have it that we'd see each other cuz having someone to talk to certainly makes that hour and a half trip to Paddington shorter. At the end of the trip, I got his number[since I still don't know mine yet!] and of course he bust out with two fones! What's with these people....
2. As I was going thru the security checkpoint at London Heathrow, a loud BLEEEEEPPP could be heard as my bag went thru the X-ray machine so I knew there was trouble. Apparently, I had accidentally brought a pair of ridiculously sharp scissors along with a ridiculously sharp nail file in my carry-on luggage. So you know them bitches was confiscated. And dammit! Those were my FAVORITE scissors!! They were so sharp. I learned then that I can have that stuff, but they must be in my checked luggage, not carry-on. At this point, I make a mental note to put the souvenir lighter I bought I London in my checked luggage for when I go back home.
2. Got to Paris...it was 9:30pm...yet the sun was still freaking up!! It was just setting at 10pm by the time I got to the train station at the airport to buy my ticket. I started practicing my Francais right away. Actually, I didn't get to practice that much because as soon as she picked up on the fac that English was my first language, she bust out with the English too. Got my ticket and proceeded to the train station that was tainted with a lovely urine odor. HMMMMMM. Saw TONS of black people everywhere.
3. As I got to the connecting point where I was to take the Metro, a girl sat down beside me and I saw she was holding a bunch of maps. I asked if she spoke English and asked her where she got the maps. She offered me one since she had a few, for which I was udderly grateful. We got to talking and realized we were going to the exact same hostel. yay! cuz I was getting kinda nervous as it was late at night. Her name is Elizabeth and she is from Kentucky. She was mad cool and she would become my roll dog for Paris.
4. Got to the hostel. It was late, but we could tell the neighborhood wasn't too hot, ya heard. But we checked in, dropped our stuff off, and decided we were both hungry so we were gonna wander around the 'hood and see what we could find. The only thing open was some convenience store. As we stood outside talking, three French guys passed us and then shouted "WE HATE AMERICANS." UGH! WHAT A BITCH!! I then replied "WE HATE YOU TOO." Elizabeth laughed and said not to get us killed in France. Now, I really didn't mean for that to be my reply, because really, I have not a damn thing against the French. And I wish most people know that most Americans could give two shits about hating the French...theyre too busy for that mess. I really wanted to say "HOW DO YOU KNOW IM NOT CANADIAN?" Damn him! He's lucky I dunno how to cuss in French cuz I certainly wouldve given him a piece of my mind. And as a consolation, I know no one likes the French either, so I was happy.
5. Got some crackers/cookies, went back to hostel and agreed we'd go see the sites together. Said goodnite and I went to use the showers. 1. The bathroom had NO hand soap available. Umm, isn't that some sort of health violation?? But Im not surprised, cuz I was told that France still had toilets that were literally holes in the ground, so their lack of hygiene doesn't surprise me. 2. The faucets were the type that you had to push and then some water would come out, then stop. Turns out the shower was the same!! Now I would have to take a shower, pressing the button repeatedly while Im in there! Weird....but one positive was that the water pressure was REALLY good, so it was actually a pretty refreshing shower.
Next day, off to explore!
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