In the belly of a SLAVESHIP called Paris Metropolitain

OMG, it’s freakin’ HOT here. Well….some days. It’s just that when there IS actual SUNSHINE and heat (instead of constant rain), you notice that there ISN’T much air conditioning in the city. Kinda strange for the number ONE tourist destination in the WORLD (trust me, it speaks to the culture). This lack of AC can prove especially problematic while taking public transportation. The train comes pulling in to the stop and as the doors open you feel that thick, sauna-like air rush out to greet you in the WORST way. The real irony of this moment is that you THOUGHT you were already hot waiting on the platform. Every cell in your body screams, “No, don’t do it!”, but you have somewhere to be, so you do. Immediately any hair not perfectly restrained sticks to your face. The sweat that has saturated your bra rolls down your stomach. You smell the STANK of armpits and general B.O. but you can’t really be certain it’s not you so you concentrate instead on breathing in and out…which can also be a problem.
I am very wary – after having been burned more than once – of the yoga-like deep, cleansing breaths that NORMALLY help in such a situation. You are just never sure what you’ll get – i’m not going into detail but trust me on this one – don’t do it. The Paris subway in August is NOT the time or place for a deep, cleansing ANYTHING.
The buses aren’t much better- apart from the tiny, little rectangle windows up near the ceiling of the bus – they are essentially fish tanks with lids. I was on a bus the other day and saw that there were stickers on each window saying not to open them because THIS bus was air conditioned! FIRST of all: Have they decided to air condition THREE of the TWENTY-THOUSAND buses working Paris, France?! and SECOND: What the BLOODY HELL type of PHANTOM air conditioning are they dealing with!? …They actually almost had me until I took a glance around at the glistening faces and wet underarm circles of my fellow runaway SLAVES. That was all the consolation I needed that I wasn’t the only one who didn’t FEEL any AC. Listen, we all want to save the environment but GIVE ME A BREAK! Plus, I’m willing to bet that all of this FUNK we’re sending up can’t be good for the ozone either.

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I've got a smart mouth and a big heart - it's a FACT.

One thought on “In the belly of a SLAVESHIP called Paris Metropolitain”

  1. I’m sitting in my cold office reading this.

    Like your page – simple & classy.

    I haven’t been on myspace for a while – just too much to keep up with it. It’s good to get a little of you. Miss you.

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