EPISODE 19
At that time, puzzling incidents followed one after another. As a rule, if a restaurant in Paris got caught more than three times breaking the public health regulations, the authority would suspend the restaurant for one month. Well, the police had already seen Mme HEART five times in the act. However, the restaurant from Hell was still open. The police would have reported her case to the authority, but the report was oddly ignored. Furthermore, my trusted Major B, who had been sympathetic to my case, could not be contacted anymore. As if he had been transferred elsewhere. It could only be explained if that man whose name we should not mention existed…
There was one group of people
Mme HEART, whose society she craved for and would turn her charm full on. The
elites in France. She boasted of being chummy with a rather famous food critic
and some others, but they were nothing compared to one powerful man. Mme
HARMONY and even the neighbors from the next-door building would lower their
voice saying, 'we must be careful because of Mme HEART is friends with
Monsieur….you know, who crumbled the justice.' It was like the scenes from
Harry Potter where people avoid pronouncing 'Voldemort.' It takes a lot for the
talkative French to clam up. Who the Hell was this man?
The universe soon answered me.
The restaurant suddenly replaced its menu with an upscale menu. The expensive
ingredients like foie gras, truffle, and caviar were on the printed menu. They
are displayed on the glass façade for the world to see. The readers would
remember that Mme HEART started with Asian-French cuisine, then Spanish tapas,
then Vietnamese snacks, and then a French bistro. Now, she was aiming for a
Micheline star-type restaurant? What shocked me was that Mme HEART was actually
working as a waitress among the staff. Again, what the Hell?
One evening, I saw a middle-aged man with an air of self-assurance dining at the restaurant served by Mme HEART, visibly nervous. I did not see his face, but a man's back reveals more when you are not distracted by the manipulative words or facial expressions, which can be faked with a strong mind. However, not one's back. It reveals one's actual state of mind and even one's class. I sensed power, but not empathy…hypocrite, yes.
Moreover, this man did not want to be there. Most likely, Mme HEART had something on him, like an inconvenient secret. The man did not return, and the upscale menu was quickly taken down. A café-like menu was up again.
And then, out of the blue, Mme.
HEART sold her business! We were all shocked because what idiots would buy such
a troublesome restaurant currently marked by the police? Unless someone ordered
the police to back off to give Mme HEART time to find a sucker who would buy
the restaurant in a mess. I would have to deal with the new buyer, but for the
moment, I was just sooooo grateful that I had survived that woman!
You might wonder why I was not
disappointed that Mme. HEART did not get her uppercomance. First, I had not
expected any because this is not a movie but a true story in real life.
Secondly, I felt no anger even though I had a close encounter with death
because of her, intentionally or by ignorance. She regarded me as a forgettable
Asian, but surprise, surprise, I never thought she counted for much either. She
did not succeed in her first occupation before turning to the restaurant
business. She sold sex, but it did not bring her the recognition she coveted.
Why would I attach importance to the apology of someone like that? So farewell
to the woman whose desire was to have fun at the expense of other people. She
needed it to appease her frustration.
The new owner, the sucker who purchased the restaurant's license from Hell, I shall call her Miss GRATITUDE, sent a letter to every resident and every landlord suggesting to form an amicable relationship. No one replied except me. I felt sorry for the woman who had been lied to and invested her savings into this dodgy restaurant permit. If she had agreed to insulate the restaurant's ceiling, I would have loved to drop my lawsuit against the restaurant for her sake. Unlike Mme HARMONY, who was after the permanent closure of Mr. PRIDE's restaurant, I simply wished for little more silence. With this high expectation, I went to meet the woman with Mme. HARMONY. Miss GRATITUDE was not beautiful. But Scarlet O'Hara, she was not either. But the two women shared a look of determination, not letting anyone get in her way. Miss GRATITUDE was leaning against the wall, puffing out the smoke. Mme HARMONY frowned. I too felt intimidated by this figure exerting power. She had been successful in her career, but because of its unstable nature, Miss GRATITUDE opted to open a restaurant to fall back in her time of need. What a disrespectful approach to this business. If running a successful restaurant was that easy, everyone would win a Michelin star. It takes talent, hard work, and decency.
Mme HARMONY politely explained my situation, but Miss GRATITUDE cut her off and suggested checking the noise in my room. But it was only 10:00 am, and the restaurant was empty. The kitchen was not yet in full swing. Thus, I hesitated, but Miss GRATITUDE insisted, marched into my apartment, closed the window without my permission, and told Mme. HARMONY that I should keep my windows closed all the time if the restaurant noise bothered me. What?
Mme. HARMONY hit back, 'People have the right to enjoy fresh air from the opened windows!' Unbelievable that a restaurant owner who serves food to the public should have little regard for the well-being of others. Undaunted, Miss GRATITUDE turned to me in English, demanding that I admit that the kitchen noise did not bother me. I saw a crafty grin and sensed that she was feeding her words into my mouth to trap me.
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