The weak are easier to abuse- True horror stories in the modern Paris part 29

My full profile, if it was ever disclosed, would reveal all sorts of minority groups starting with my gender and race. Throughout my life, I have been harassed on many levels, 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 on this blog.  I quote many others before me that ‘True horror is hidden within man’.


Two Parisians saved me by acknowledging the problems caused by the restaurant from Hell and yet they were no longer reachable.  Officer RAPHAEL never returned for a follow-up inspection.  My lawyer was puzzled because it was his duty, but the department to supervise the irregular activities of businesses to protect the health of the public had suddenly been transferred out from the prefecture de Police to the town hall of my district.  Even then my lawyer would not believe that the man whose name we must not mention, had pulled some strings, but right after my case opened by Officer RAPHAEL was as good as closed, the second summons for my lawsuit arrived from the tribunal.  My case lacked the last piece of evidence that would have helped me because Officer RAPHAEL was to witness and record the remaining noise from the restaurant.

My French lawyer frowned because a prejudged verdict was already passed on my case and displayed on the court bulletin to the public.  What?  A verdict BEFORE my lawyer even had the chance to defend me in the court?  My French lawyer tried to reassure me that it was clear that the restaurant misrepresented its renovation plan.  There was no way the authority would allow such an act of breach.  The prejudged verdict must have acknowledged it, my lawyer was optimistic.  Somehow I could not share his optimism.  

The door to First instance court looked ominous that morning.  My lawyer was shocked that the verdict was had ruled against me.  It was an uphill battle for him but it was clear that the panels did not want to hear my lawyer’s defense.  ‘But the restaurant lied.’ my lawyer screamed in the end.  The eldest man on the panel smiled and cajolingly ‘Yeees, a little, but nothing to make a fuss about.’  That was the only French phrase I could grasp during the hearing.  I was sitting in front of the panel but I may not have existed.  Some glanced at me once but swiftly looked away.  My lawyer courageously explained how much I suffered because of the restaurant, but the panel did not react one bit.  He stormed out of the court in exasperation. 

Mirror that reflects your soul

‘Such a thing has never happened in my other cases elsewhere!’  My lawyer was enraged.  ‘This should not happen in France!’  His eyes revealed that he suspected Anti-Asian sentiment, but was too afraid to admit it.  He had just married an Asian woman and their first child was on the way.  My poor lawyer gasped at the first glimpse of what the future of his child might behold.  Cheer up, he or she will get used to it, I have.  It’s a natural human sentiment and it’s not like the panels found me extra ugly or stupid.  Now that would have been personal and hurtful. 

So I was more concerned over the second possible cause of defeat: the man whose name must not be mentioned.  Feared in my neighborhoods as the one to have crumbled the justice.  If indeed he had, then he was a Goliath on top of the pyramid.  The former immigrant had acquired so much power that it may have replaced the original top gun, the French with money.  There was a time when my blog was naively titled The Bullied takes on Goliath, but I am now rewriting it all with more details.  Some link still contains the word Goliath because of it. 

Now, here is the touch of reality.  I noticed for the first time that the defendant of my lawsuit was not Mr. SINCERE nor Mr. PRIDE.  It was the Council of Paris.  How did that come about?  I thought I was suing the restaurant for its misrepresentation to the authority BASU, but NO.  In fact, my lawyer blamed BASU for having failed to see through the lies, and as BASU was part of the public service, the Council of Paris was held responsible for the mistake.  Thus the defendant was the Council of Paris and I, an Asian immigrant was the plaintiff.  Had I known this, I would not have done it!  I came to France, not invited, but because I wanted to.  It is rude to question the system of France, particularly the public bureau. 

I have once lived in Australia, a multi-national nation.  It sounds idealistic, but some immigrants criticized and made demands alternatively to the Australian government that made the rest of the immigrants seem just as ungrateful.  I found it disgraceful and vowed not to be like that myself.  And yet, here I was taking the Council of Paris to the court.  I nearly fainted.  My French lawyer was puzzled, ‘I thought my boss had explained this to you.’  No.  Every time I questioned the details, the Asian boss kept telling me it was all fine.  Come to think of it, I had never received properly detailed bills from him.  He just emailed me the final sum every month and I was too drained by the restaurant from Hell to doubt him.