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The true horror stories in modern Paris Part 37

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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 the wrong kind of clients whose focus was not on food, which was far from a Michelin starred restaurant that Mr Pride dreamt of.   So blissfully, Mr Pride was still eager to carry out more works.  His tradesmen needed to access my apartment to install a glass roof over his restaurant.  Mme. Landlord repeatedly told him how much I 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 with unnatural shiver.  The temperature was not low therefore I was not shi

The true horror stories in modern Paris Part 36

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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 wou

The true horror stories in modern Paris Part 35

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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

The true horror stories in modern Paris Part 34

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Mme. Landlord was on the phone.  ‘Mais, Non!’  She repeated in utter exasperation.  Mr. Pride had called her to demand access to his roof through her apartment’s window where I rent, so his workers could install a sky roof on his restaurant.  Mme. Empathy believed that the lack of a sky roof was the reason her restaurant was sparsely occupied.  You would think that good food with honest price is the keys to more customers, but not Mme. Empathy, our lady with substance .  So here he was, Mr. Pride, demanding that I complied his request.  He knew I was suffering insomnia and was weakened.   Mme. Landlord defended me, ‘You and Mme. Empathy keeps installing electric appliances that make loud noise all night long, which keep my tenant up every night.  I have told you this many times!’  Mr. Pride interrupted Mme. Landlord with a scoff.  ‘Your tenant chose to live above a restaurant.  Where does she get off complaining?’  Mme. Landlord corrected him, ‘I too live above a restaurant in the