Sunday, 17 September 2017

The true horror stories in modern Paris Part 39

I came to with foggy mind with spasm in one eyelid, but it could have been worse.  My blood pressure which the restaurant had pushed a skyrocket high, was somewhat under control thanks to this potion its recipe is known among Japanese, or at least passed down among my family.  I chose to make it regularly when I embarked on this losing battle against the big money, Mr. Pride, and the queen of manipulation, Mme. Empathy.  They would have liked me to shrivel up like a dead insect and disappear, taking Mme. Landlord down with me, but I was not going to make it that easy for the enemies.  I could practice acupuncture on my own which helped putting my daily disrupted system back to some what normal.  Thus, Mme. Empathy looked puzzled when I walked past her restaurant appearing to be calm.  The truth is I was staggering but I was holding myself together with a sheer mind power.  She still needed to receive the writ of my lawsuit and my lawyer had advised me not to raise any suspicion in her mind lest she refuses to receive.

But there was another reason I had to escape my apartment.  Some long-time readers of my blog would recall a woman named Leila in the earlier episodes of True Horror Stories in Pairs series.  Introduced in my episode 7, she was a disturbed woman who held grudge against all the Parisians who would not befriend her.  She took her frustration out on the previous tenant of my apartment by repeatedly harassing the aged old man.  He barely escaped but an anonymous letter was posted to her as a warning that her malicious, bordering on murderous, intention was in fact noted.  Leila turned her toxic eyes on me, but could not touch me for a while.  Until one day she found me staggering out of my apartment and discovered that I was living in a hellish environment.  She sensed my newly developed weakness, worn down by this sound hypersensitivity.  Since then her tenacious midnight washing started and it tormented my senses already tattered by the restaurant during the day and evening.  I was fighting two evils, Leila and the restaurant from Hell.

The long-time readers would remember that Leila was removed from my life after my small act of kindness to a stranger.  My voice was slightly shaking from excess stress because Mme. Empathy held another blasting loud music party night.  Notwithstanding, I mastered up my sense of obligation to provide help when asked for it.  A poetic justice was delivered and Leila and her toxic fiancé was gone.  The restaurant from the Hell however was too strong.  The authority was on their side because of Mme. Empathy’s connection.  My lawyer assured me that the judicial system is still safe from corruption calls PISTON in French.  Hoping against hope, I accessed the internet site of the post office.  A green big check appeared on the scene.  The writ of my lawsuit had finally been accepted officially by someone from the restaurant.

To be continued 

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Wednesday, 6 September 2017

The true horror stories in modern Paris Part 38

Mr. Pride was preparing for a party Mme. Empathy was hosting at the restaurant.  It had already been opened two months and things were going swell, or so he was told.  The truth was that the restaurant had been hardly occupied.  Having failed to attract serious diners, Mme. Empathy opted to go party venue serving booze at a rip-off price.  It started to attract a wrong kind of clients whose focus was not on food, which was far from a Michelin starred restaurant that Mr. Pride dreamt of.  

However, Mr. Pride was happy that two months milestone had been reached tonight.  As he had foreseen Mme. Landlord failed to stop the count-down by notifying the authority.  She would have needed the consent of the rest of the landlords, but he was one of the bigger shareholders.  ‘Why can’t that woman do as I wish?  He recalled the last telephone conversation he had with Mme. Landlord.  His tradesmen needed to access her apartment to install a glass roof over his restaurant.  Mme. Landlord repeatedly told him how much her tenant was suffering because of the restaurant’s unlawful infrastructure.  It all fell on his deaf ears because he simply reiterated ‘Tell that Asian what’s-her name to cooperate.  I want my glass roof installed.’

That morning I woke up wish unnatural shiver.  The temperature was not low therefore I was not shivering from chillness.  In hindsight, I was suffering the initial symptom which resulted from the excess exposure to electromagnetic waves.  PASU the authority prohibits the restaurants located inside the residential buildings from installing a large commercial freezer/fridge because of the electromagnetic health hazard, leading to cancer.  Mr. Pride and Mme. Empathy of course chose to lie to the authority about it.  The large appliance was installed days before the two month expiry date.  Now I was being exposed to two cancer causing hazards: low frequency noise from the bare extractor over their cooking stove and electromagnetic from their illegally large electric appliances.  You would think that Mr. Pride and Mme. Empathy could not have harmed me more. 

But it happened.  The first blast of music and disco beats that rippled through the walls of the old medieval buildings.  It used up so much electricity that the light on the stair hall went out and one of my power point was burnt.  Ear plugs, ear muffs, nothing helped.  I crawled to the corner of the kitchen, but the beats kept attacking me.  I could hear the guests downstairs cheer repeatedly not knowing of my predicament.  Joining them was a Mme. Empathy who was on the top of the world.  It went on until 03:00 am or longer I would not know because I passed out.  My mind was diminishing but I was remembering the news I had received from my lawyer that they had finally collected the mountain of documents required and that the tribunal accepted my lawsuit two days ago.  Just two days before the expiry date when this restaurant from hell would have become legitimate for good.

To be continued.
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Saturday, 26 August 2017

The true horror stories in modern Paris Part 37

With the departure of the Asian chef, the last ounce of conscious left the restaurant.  New replacement chefs, there were a few of them as not one lasted long under Mme. Empathy’s management, they would all set the ventilator at the maximum strength convinced that a due insulation had been applied.  Of course, it would not occur to Mme. Empathy to correct their error.  So I was exposed to both the high and low frequency noise, the latter which rocked my wall and furniture.  While the high frequency noise would offend our hearing, the low frequency noise would penetrate our skin and grab our internal organs to shake it relentlessly.  The shaking furniture showed me what was happening inside me. 

Ironically, it was a French researcher who first discovered the damage of low frequency noise, yet it is the citizens of other nations, Germany for one, that are protected by the regulations.  While the human ears eventually would get used to the high frequency noise, the low frequency noise would be accumulated inside our system and the symptoms would appear after months, making it difficult to pinpoint the cause.  In my case I was exposed to the intense level that I developed the symptoms after only 2 months: insomnia, dizziness, stiff shoulder and neck muscle and finally numbness of hands that I frequently started to drop things.  All the articles on low frequency noise suffers’ syndrome say it would lead to depression and a few years later…suicide.  Thus its alternative name is ‘Silent Killer.’  I booked a room elsewhere to escape after the two months period was up.  (Please, read the part 25 that explains the importance of two months)

It seemed forever, but it was finally two days away from the two months expiry date.  I had submitted the noise diary, the hours and the level, to my lawyer.  By this time, my sense had weaken so much that even church bells could punch me in between my lungs.  In fact any noise could jerk my body.  There was no rest inside my brain…and yet it happened.  The shrieking drilling noise penetrated my floor from the restaurant.  Mme. Empathy had decided to install a giant electric appliance for which she did not receive permission from the authority.  I thought it had been a hell, but the rock bottom was yet to come.   

To be continued.
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Saturday, 19 August 2017

The true horror stories in modern Paris Part 36

Mme. Empathy was being confronted by her chef.  ‘Madame, you lied to me.  I only agreed to install the extracting ventilation directly on the ceiling because you assured me that the ceiling had been insulated.’  Mme. Empathy replied with a smile ‘but it is!  I cannot do any more insulation than this.’  He did not quite believe her because this chef did not abuse the extractor to his credit.  Any chef would know the hell I was being put through upstairs.   At least the other chefs I had the chance to consult was aghast.  

I was incessantly hit by relentless vibration that my hands started to shake regularly.  My lungs and my necks felt oppressed that I desperately needed to leave the apartment.  However, I had to go back and record everything for at least one month.  The police would only come and measure the noise level only after I have suffered and got affected by it.  My lawyers needed time to gather all the necessary documents and the tribunal in France required HEAPS.  Many times I had to grit my teeth to prevent myself from vomiting.  Every time the extractor stopped I would drop down on the floor like a puppet with a string that got snapped.  At least 10 hours of this every day and all the muscles around my neck and my shoulder became stiff as rock.  

Mme. Empathy was annoyed that her mood was ruined by being reminded of me.  I knew she was more angry than sorry because I had run into her one morning.  She looked at me like a trouble maker whom she had every right to be indignant with.  She tried to get the chef to agree with her by saying, ‘that Asian woman is exaggerating to deceive money out of us.  It can’t be that bad if she is staying.  Asians can breed in any kind of conditions, can’t they?’  Mme. Empathy did not realize that the chef, whom she had hired in order to ride on the Asian cuisine wave in Paris, did not reply.  Shortly afterwards, the Asian chef quit the restaurant.   This I heard from the other chef who would also quit the restaurant later.

Some readers may suspect as Mrs. Empathy did that I may be suing the restaurant for money.  The compensation for noise nuisance is amazingly small in France.  My lawyer warned me that the legal fees would be easily be tenfold of the compensation price. However, Mme. Empathy is right in believing herself not to be a racist.  She does not indeed see the colour of people’s skin.  In fact she does not see human beings in anybody, otherwise she would have paid more attention on the facial expression of the Asian chef she addressed.  There are cases when even racism feels more humane.  

To be continued.
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Saturday, 12 August 2017

The true horror stories in modern Paris Part 35

Mr. Pillar, the lawyer, had defended many restaurants, but not vice versa. ‘Generally, the restaurants in Paris observe the regulations and it is the Syndics that do not want a restaurant in their residential building. However, this is clearly an exceptional case. In all my years of practicing laws in France, I have never seen this extent of malignant breach of regulations as in your case.’ Even his partner lawyer nodded because Mr. Pillar uncovered many other wrong doings by Mme. Empathy which I was not yet aware of. I have travelled all way from Japan to be sunk by a pirate. According to Mr. Pride, I had it coming because…of what?

Mr. Pillar was curious as to why I chose to stay. Very legitimate question. I thought of this tenant next door who recently left. The landlord simply washed his hands off on this unsuspecting Chinese girl. It was much cheaper for this landlord than hiring a lawyer to fight Mr. Pride. This is Paris where there would be no shortage of tenants from overseas. I tried to warn this Chinese girl, but she had already signed a long term lease.

My Mme. Landlord, on the other hand, was no such a coward. She offered to reimburse me the deposit and offered a free lodging at her other house until I found another. Mme. Landlord would not lend out her apartment to anyone until this problem with the restaurant was solved. She chose to fight solo despite her cancer. This impressed me immensely. There had been 4 landlords in Paris before her and three of them had exploited their tenants. Mind like Mme. Landlord is clearly rare to find in this dangerously beautiful Paris. So this was it. I chose to stay because I wished to learn from this respectable French lady. I may still lose and leave after spending a rather large sum of money on lawsuits, but at the end of the day, I liked Mme. Landlord.

Mr. Pillar nodded. ‘The restaurant owner needs to receive the registered mail from the tribunal so that the stop we shall put on their restaurant permit will become valid. You must not let on anything to raise their suspicion lest the restaurant refuse to receive it. I am very sorry but you are going to have to stay in your apartment all day all night to record all hours and volumes of the noise the restaurant emits.’

This was going to cost my health on many levels. To be continued. にほんブログ村 英語ブログ 国際交流へ