The true horror stories in modern Paris Part 26

In spite of everything Paris continues to draw people in for many reasons, but one of mine was to fulfill the dream of my parents.  They wished to live there basking in her historical glories.  As an Asian with no siblings, it was all up to me to make this happen and my father’s mind was gradually being eroded by Altimizers.   Time was running out so I settled on this apartment in Le Marais. 

Thus I came face to face with the notorious Mme. Empathy whose desire was to have fun at the expense of other people.  Her smile made me feel uneasy, but I needed to ask her to show me her kitchen.  I was initially hesitant to live above a restaurant, but my parents had weak knees that they could only walk up to low floors.  As the small apartment was not above the client seats area I had decided to move in.  The kitchen noise from below should be manageable with insulation and so in order to insulate my place effectively I needed to see where her kitchen appliances were installed.  To my request Mme. Empathy obliged with a smile and pointed at a refrigerator which was only slightly bigger than a domestic refrigerator.  Something did not sit right with me, but she kept talking and talking that I could not think straight.  Against my better judgement I forced myself to believe her smile and left quickly.  Such was her manipulative gift.

Then it began.  The chef switched on their cooking ventilation attached directly to their ceiling with no insulation.  The vibration force virtually threw me away from that particular spot.  It was like inside the airplane engine.  The heat would have scorched me had it been summer.  The only sanctuary was my kitchen but the hellish noise and vibration would continue for 8 hours straight in preparation for their opening party.  I could not move because of the oppressive force on my lungs that rendered me immobile.  With my shaking fingers I dialed Mme. Landlord.  It was beginning of my long dark days in Paris.  To be continued.

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