Sunday, 14 January 2018

The bullied takes on Goliath in the true horror stories in modern Paris part 57

Mr. Honour was not amused.  His high status gave him the power to manipulate the lives of others, but at the same time it also put him under the scrutinizing eyes of his opponents, eager to expose him.   We are both impressed and suspicious of those who gained fame on the moral ground.  It is not as clear cut as making a great invention or discovery, or winning medals at the Olympics, etc.  Mr. Honour had won accolades for being the champion of the minority and yet he had hands in the life-or-death ordeal of an Asian woman.  Granted indirectly, but he knew his favourite Mme. Empathy had been convicted of running unregulated business before and yet he intervened so she could continue her dark ways. 

Now, I have no illusions that my life mattered as much as a rat floating along the river Seine to Mr. Honour or anybody for that matter, but his opponents may pretend to care.   Neither the police nor my lawyer had enough proofs to make a case against the restaurant for my first ordeal, but Mr Honour knew that if I sought sanction at the police again from electricity exposure, things may be different.  I would be able to report to the Japanese Embassy.   I cannot claim to know the thoughts of Mr. Honour, but only he could have persuaded Mme. Empathy to do redo her kitchen.   She finally contacted the architect employed by the Syndic of the building.  I happened to walk in when the architect was instructing her to insulate the kitchen ceiling too.  Would she finally come to do the right thing?

Weeks later I returned to check things out.  The vibration noise from the ventilation had significantly dropped, however, Mme. Empathy had not yet insulted her kitchen ceiling.  Other decent restaurants in Paris would either install their noisy machines in the basement, or rent or buy the first floor above the kitchen to protect their neighbours from the noise.   Of course, Mme. Empathy would install her kitchen on the ground floor directly under the residential apartments.   This meant I would continue to be exposed to the mechanical noise during the night.  The restaurant had ameliorated just enough so that Mr Honour would not be linked to my near death ordeal.  I could still perish from insomnia for all they cared, the restaurant from Hell.  

I was not her only casualties.  If you do not remember the American young man in the episode 48 who was beguiled by the pretty waitress Natalie into helping the restaurant, here is the link to that episode.
The young man thought the restaurant would respond to his kindness by being considerate to him who lived right above the client area.   No such luck.  Once he had done his part, the restaurant responded by turning up the volume of the stereo to the max every night that the floor shook literally for the poor man.  Our misled American hero shortly left the apartment he had loved and stayed for a long time.   I blamed Natalie for going along with the scheme of Mme. Empathy…until that day when Mme. Empathy approached me with a dazzling smile.   To be continued.
にほんブログ村 英語ブログ 国際交流へ