Monday, 6 February 2017
Needless to say I caught up with my long awaited restful sleep in Wien the first few days. As I regained my strength I assessed the situation. The bar next door should not be too much problems as the owner-residents would surely take care of the noise once they are back from Christmas holidays. So it was back to those two anti-socials upstairs.
Perhaps I could notify the owner and the police and stay away from Paris for a while. That would have cost me unnecessary expenses, but quitting Paris for good never occurred to me. Not until I got harassed by the French. Leila was from Algeria and she seemed determined to defy anything French including the French regulations. She was determined to establish superiority over me the Asian by any means, mostly foul. She may try but those two misfit foreigners were not going to drive me away from Paris. Besides…something told me the things were going to be all right as I listened to the God sent voice of angels by the Vienna Boys’ Choir.
In January I returned to my place. As I climbed up the stairs I noticed the air was light. I said this before but people’s negative aura carries an actual weight. An old lady passed by and wished me Bonne Année with the news that Leila and her fiancé had left. Or rather gotten kicked out by their landlord. Now if you remember of this poor tourist who came knocking on my door for a hair dryer because Leila had taken hers with her. I felt so sorry for this innocent tourist whose dream holidays in Paris was ruined by the endless party noise from the bar next door that before I left for Wien I asked this old lady neighbor to rent this tourist a hair dryer. I would have rented out mine, but I was not going to return before this tourist left.
It turned out that this building had a strict regulation against the tenants renting out to the tourists without the knowledge of the landlords. The old lady neighbor promptly informed Leila’s landlord who immediately kicked Leila out. The fate may have intervened through the misdemeanor of the bar next door to which Leila and her fiancé responded with greed. They thought to extract some cash from tourists while they escaped the party noise at their parents’. I could not touch those two anti-socials, but their own greed could.
I sat down and cried from relief. However, this is Paris. It would not end without one more twist. To be continued.
Friday, 3 February 2017
Fate—a factor you cannot overuse in fictions lest the plot becomes unrealistically convenient. Thus the characters have to take the matters in their hands. The readers cheer on while fully being aware that it does not happen in real life. As this is my true story I could only wait for the fate to intervene. I could not even move out the apartment because the agent would want to know the reason for breaking the contract. If I told them, they would contact the landlord of Leila and that would tick off her fiancé. Thus, I was barely surviving with a sound masking application which softens the onslaught of the washing machine and her relentless high-heel strikes on the floor without carpets.
Then one night a blast of disco music blocked out every sound in the world. It was coming from the next door bar whose manager had no respect for the thin walls of the historic buildings. The drumming beat continued to hit me until 03:00 in the morning. Maybe longer but my memory stops there. Hours later when I woke up shivering. It was not from cold but from my extreme stress. The tip of my tongue had lost sense, just like Mr. A. had lost his. It was December the party month. Staying in this environment until the New Year’s Eve would really break me. With shivering fingers I booked a flight to Wien, Austria. I must spend nights in a café for 5 days until the departure. I would have left sooner but in December, the tickets were scarce.
Fortunately, the party at the next door pub repeated just once. But on the fourth night, there was a tap on my door. I jumped out of my skin, but realized that the tap was soft. So I opened the door and saw a demure looking French girl. She wanted to borrow my hairdryer because Leila had rent out her apartment without one. Leila and her fiancé had wished to escape the bar’s noise too. While it never occurred to me to get someone to pay for staying in this hell, these two had no moral issues about it, of course. I rented the poor tourist my hairdryer which she promptly returned hours later. Soon after that the drumming of party started at the bar. I gritted my teeth telling myself it was for just one more night.
As I could not sleep I left while it was still dark. Never thought I would want to leave my beloved Paris so badly. But unknown to me the fate had already dealt its card. To be continued.