True horrors stories in the shadow of Paris Part 9

If it was ever disclosed, my complete profile would reveal all sorts of minority groups, starting with my gender and race.  I have been harassed on many levels throughout my life, but I lacked the stomach and power to carry out revenge.  This was a blessing in disguise because retribution eventually manifested itself, which inspired me to share it on this blog.  I quote many others before me that 'True horror is hidden within man'.


Some people have a knack for sniffing out misfortune in others.  So there they were Mr PRIDE and Mme HEART, standing in front of an old shop whose previous owner had run into deep debt.  The shop was a bargain to pick up.  Mme. HEART would be considered old and peaked out in any other country, but she was still in the game here in Paris.  She smiled at Mr Hay seductively, and he was intoxicated, though you could not see it on his brusque face. 

The pair dreamt of running an upscale restaurant though neither one had knowledge of the restaurant business.  Mme. HEART insisted she was an expert, but this was an exceedingly optimistic view considering she had run every eatery she had ever managed down into the ground.  However, in Paris, there are always people who would pay good money for the license to operate a restaurant in this gourmet capital.  One would question the wisdom of Mr PRIDE's judgment in appointing her as the manager of his newly acquired property, but incompetence did not matter in the touristic areas.  The unsuspecting tourists would always be beguiled to dine at substandard restaurants. 

The long-standing establishments provide good food, but that is not all.  The difference comes down to the manager's personality, whose integrity the locals are well aware of.  The price may be similar, but some managers would cut corners.  The challenge in Paris is not to be ripped off.  Despite the national motto' equality', France is surprisingly a polarized society.  On one side is a small group of wealthy elites enjoying absolute dominancy, while on the other side are financially oppressed.  Some decent French people uphold morality…but there is also a culture that hails cheating as being cool.   

The system has made it easy for those cheaters too.  For instance, every new restaurant must seek permission from the Council and an organization called BASU.  In the historical part of Paris, the buildings are made of natural material, not cement or modern stuff.  Insulation of the premises is mandatory so as not to deteriorate the quality of life of the other residents in the buildings.  However, the authorities do not carry out follow-up inspections to check if the restaurant has indeed carried out all that was claimed in their application for the permit.  'great'' thought our Mme. HEART.  Insulation costs a lot in Paris, and she would much prefer to spend more money on fashion so she would look good in her restaurant. 

Her partner, our Mr PRIDE, had checked to see who lived near the restaurant.  They were either tenants or tourists.  'eat', 'thought Mr PRIDE because in France, it is up to the noise victims to notify the authority should a restaurant not observe the regulations.  The tenants and tourists would leave without complaining to the owners.  Mme HEART did not give a toss about others either.  Why should she?  Men had indulged her all her life for her looks.  Observing the rules was for fools and ugly women who could not hope to manipulate men.  This was the reputation that had preceded her. 

Mirror that reflects your soul

Next time you are in Paris, look up at the apartment right above any bustling restaurants.  Some apartments look deserted, probably by the owner who could not afford to hire a lawyer to fight the cheating restaurant.  You may detect tremendous sadness.  The cheaters trod on the weak who perish into the shadow of Paris.  Mr PRIDE heard that an Asian woman was going to move in.  He thought, 'Asians are too stupid to complain or anything.' 'That Asian was me.