Cheaters playing two ways-The true horror stories in Paris part 30

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.'


 ‘You are going to appeal, aren’t you?  My boss and I are ready to proceed,’ said my lawyer.  My lawyer added that the next level of court cannot be touched by anyone including the man whose name we must not mention.  Did my French lawyer finally come to believe his influence?  Suppose we won and Mr. PRIDE’s license was canceled, it still would not make my father rise from the grave to live in my apartment in Paris.  Besides, suing the Council of Paris again would go against my policy. 

Then how should I solve the noise problem?  Miss GRATITUDE exposed me to both the high and low-frequency noise, the former with her constant music and the latter with her kitchen appliances.  She adamantly refused to insulate her ceiling insisting that Mr. PRIDE had done enough.  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.  I would not sue the Council of Paris, but I could still sue the restaurant for the noise that I should have done in the first place. 

I pondered as I walked home.  I could see through the glass façade that Mr. SINCERE was visiting the restaurant again, smiling among the staff.  He scared me more than his aggressive sister Mme. HEART.  Thank God she never returned since then, but this seemingly righteous man was just as cruel as his sister.  He let her fry me with the improperly installed ventilator and then the overflow of electricity.  He may not have the hand in it, but he approved it all.  Mme. HEART was at least not a hypocrite. 

His presence meant there was to be a party, so I went out and returned after midnight.  To my dismay, the party was still on and there were more guests than usual.  I hoped it would taper out.  How wrong I was because a chorus started in the restaurant.  The singing gradually turned into howling and a shiver went down my spine.  Loud music is one thing, but human howling is eerie.  Then to my horror, my apartment started to shake from stomping in the restaurant.  Shouldn’t dancing be more light and elegant? 

Howling and stomping, howling and stomping…continued all night.  The whole building shook (I learned this later from my other neighbours).   I was past annoyed, I was scared!  Usually, my curiosity would beckon me to find out what was happening, but instinct told me to stay away from what was obviously a ritual of some kind.  I visualized the normally reserved Mr. SINCERE turning into a howling existence.   As I listened to their primitive shouts, getting louder each time, I could not help but remember the dark souls of the butchers who lived near Notre Dame Cathedral preying on tourists to consume their flesh.  Their shops are no more and there is a police station on the site, but their souls that could not have been accepted into the heaven may have found a new hang out.  It sounds silly now, but I was that frightened.  The ritual continued until the dawn which left me shaking and sleepless. 

Mirror that reflects your soul

Silence finally, I thought with a foggy head with spasm in one eyelid.  The sky of Paris looked gray-white.   I went downstairs not knowing what to expect.    Something told me to look into the residential garbage area.  I gasped.  It was filled with hundreds of empty drink bottles and a mountain of litter.  Mr. PRIDE had promised that his staff would take their litter out to the nearest commercial garbage station.  Like many other his promises, this was hardly observed.   Miss GRATITUDE was no better, as the bottles before me proved.  Taking her to court would expose me to her and the group led by Mr. SINCERE, probably aka howling crowd of last night.  Instinct warned me to stay away from them.  

Then I was left with only one option: KANUCHI.  It is a strategy that was often employed by both the emperors and Samurai warriors.  Instead of fighting to stop the opponents, doing exactly the opposite may work without bloodshed.  Promoting your opponent to the status too elevated for him will force him to work harder and will shorten his life.  This may only work if the opponent was a diligent Japanese, but granting every desire of your opponent could lead anyone to self-destruction.  It is a risky tactic, but I opted to gamble.  I would insulate all the walls and the floor to protect my health while I waited out.  

Thus, Miss GRATITUDE was given full reign.  She opened her restaurant for breakfast, lunch, tea time, apéro (drinks before dinner), dinner, and late dining…without a license for drinks nor for non-stop hours.  The Asian woman above had dropped her lawsuit and the extractor was to be attached properly on the building, thus legalized.  With everything going her way, Miss GRATITUDE was on top of the world.