Exploitation of immigrants in the true horror stories in Paris part 34

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’.


Mme. HARMONY and I were in Leroy Merlin, a hardware shop in Paris.  Paint needed to be purchased to paint her apartment because she did not like the colour Jupiter had chosen.  Her apartment was fairly big (two floors) so it was going to be a big job.  I assumed that her son who lived in Paris would help his old mother.   To this Mme. HARMONY replied ‘Oh, no, I cannot ask my son (and his wife).  They are raising children.  Their time is precious.’  So my time was not?  Mme. HARMONY chatted away about how well she was getting along with her son and her daughter-in-law.   I pondered why none of her family ever invited her for Christmas dinner or anything for that matter.  I know this because she once asked me to join her for Christmas eve dinner for she was alone.  

Suddenly her eyebrow moved up as Mme. HARMONY spotted some paints sold at a reduced price.  She asked a shop assistant if it was suited for painting over a dark color.  The assistant replied ‘Non, it is semi-transparent.’  Now Jupiter had left black wallpapers on the wall and yet Mme. HARMONY wished to paint the walls in light beige. She should have a professional painter remove the black wallpaper or invest in high-quality paint.  She chose neither because both options were costly.  She purchased the cheap paint and decided that I should paint many layers to compensate for the poor quality.  I sighed but convinced myself that she did not know the mammoth workload she had just placed on me.  Such was my loyalty to her that I wished to help her economize. 

I had to carry all the heavy cans of paint back to her apartment because of Mme. HARMONY would not spend 50 euros on delivery.  Mme. HARMONY thought I deserved some reward and served me a pumpkin soup.  It was the weakest soup that I had ever tasted that even water would have had more flavor, but ‘it is the thought that counts’ I told myself.  Then one of her gentleman friends knocked on the door.  She had asked him to come to give her some advice on painting her apartment.   

I was amazed by her transformation.  She behaved coy and flirty, her voice was a pitch higher than the one she would use with me.  Well, that’s a French woman for you, I was amused…until she started telling lies.  The gentleman said painting the entire apartment was a bit too much for an amateur woman like me.  He advised Mme. HARMONY to use good quality paint to compensate for my want of stamina.  However, Mme. HARMONY replied ‘Don’t worry, I have just bought the best that the shop recommended to me.’   

Mirror that reflects your soul

My French had improved enough to understand her lies, but my speaking ability was never to be on par with a native speaker.  As soon as I opened my mouth and uttered a few words of French, Mme. HARMONY spoke over me to shut me up.  She went on to say to the gentleman that it was me who insisted on doing this favor for Mme. HARMONY because I wished to repay her for the kind services she gave me all the time. 

That was true, but she omitted to add that I had been paying all the legal fees to fight the restaurant from Hell to save the weak, her tenants included.  I never asked to split the bill, but she never offered to pay either.  My lawyer had also warned me that Mme. HARMONY would often ring him to ask for advice for herself at my expense.   I did not confront her about it because I wished to indulge my friend who was also an elder.  Perhaps, she did not know what she was doing for her mild senile.  But here she was, Mme. HARMONY was using me to impress her gentleman friend.  What senile?  She knew exactly what she was doing.

She went on to ask him to tie two chairs on a small lorry.  The gentleman obliged and asked if she wanted him to deliver the chairs to her other apartment.  Mme. HARMONY declined to say that she could not be so impolite to her good friend.  And yet, as soon as the gentleman left, she turned around, back in her normal tone, and told me to deliver her chairs across the old town of Paris at 23:30 at night.  On her lips, there was a sheepish smile, but her eyes were malicious.