The world is attracted to Paris, the city of light, but if you stay to live the shadow beneath her reveals itself to you eventually…at least it has to me. Through my daily struggle in Paris, I began to realize what possessed me to title this blog as ‘the third red apple.’ An initial hint is in the pages available in English and French, but little did I know that it was just a beginning.
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.