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The true horror stories in Paris-Part 9

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Mr. A. returned to his apartment feeling much relieved that his talk with Leila went cordially.  He would at last have peace and quiet after this night.  He put on his kettle to make himself a cupper…then his hand stopped.  That blasted grounding noise started above his head.  Leila had turned on her washing machine as soon as he had left.  ‘Oh, maybe she just needs to do one lot because she could not help it that she came home after 19:00…’  Mr. A. tried to explain Leila to himself, but she could have set the timer on her machine so that it would wash during the normal hours of the following day. The machine got louder as it reached the final spinning stage.  Because of the thin walls and ceiling in Paris’ old buildings, it felt as if he was inside the spinning machine with his guts being oppressed.  Mr. A held on waiting for the final bang.  It came and the quiet that followed relaxed his muscles.  Mr. A sighed.  It was nearly 22:00.  But wait…Leila re-started the washing cycle

The true horror stories in Paris-Part 8

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Leila immediately started badmouthing her French landlord lady as if she knew her personally.  The fact that I was an Asian seemed to have relaxed her attitude.  She casually threw into the conversation that she had many international friends, a lot of them black people.   Well, I had seen it before, a white person posing to be humanitarian by surrounding herself/himself with the minorities.   A lot of them truly are so, but there have been cases where their motives were to numb the pain of rejection by their own peers.  The latter would try establish their superiority over the weak and in Leila’s case, she had already driven out Mr. A, my previous resident who was aged and weaken.  I mentioned in my last post that violence is not the only mean to hurt people in Paris.  It goes without saying that the infrastructure of the buildings here is ancient, but still the outside walls are usually built with solid rock or sand stones.  However, due to rapidly increasing demand for acco

The true horror stories in Paris-Part 7

It is November already?  What a 'two months' it has been!  It is about time I uploaded a new true horror story.  So here goes. Parisians may be the most sought after people in the world.  Their fashion, philosophy and most important of all their society is coveted by those who flew in with utmost expectation.  Of course, Parisians are not obliged to reciprocate just because people self-invited themselves into their city of light.  ‘But I tried so hard to be nice to them!’  Leila uttered with grudge.  She is one of those hopefuls rejected by Parisians after having lived here for some years.  Her reaction is a giveaway that she is a white person.  I can’t speak for all the coloured races, but I for one, would be content if the locals just responded to me calmly.  Friendship is not something you can demand of people and there is another kind of comfort in being left alone.  But I suspect people like Leila needs Parisian friends as a trophy to prover herself to the people

The true horror stories in Paris-Part 6

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I here upload my first post since I moved to Blogger.  Thank God to the administrators of Blogger because my old posts have suddenly attracted thousands of viewers and all I did was having them transferred from Wordpress where I only attracted one or two views per day. If you have read my true horror story in Paris part 1 to 5, you may wonder whatever happened to that Japanese middle-aged spinster who tried to brainwash me to hand over to her my cash as offerings.  Maybe this bit is a true horror story only possible in France.  One year on she is still employed by the same bank because of the iron clad Union power á la Francaise.  Her superior has been under stress worrying over what she may be doing with her other Japanese clients’ accounts and yet he can’t fire her.  Her coworkers are also stressed mentally and physically because their workloads have increased due to the fact this spinster could not be trusted with new clients.  A few months ago I had to call my current council

The true horror stories in Paris-Part 5; 現代パリの本当にあった怖い話第5

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Though the director took my complaint seriously and agreed that the behavior of my former councilor quiet weird, he could not find a reason to be deem it suspicious.  ‘If she stole your money, she would risk going to prison.  She wouldn’t do that for herself.’  His reasoning was right, but I sensed that she knew what she was doing all along.   A month later I went back to Japan to see my parents.  The day time talk shows were featuring a new type of crime—mind controlling.  Several celebrities whose mind had been controlled by some sinister figures ended up losing their savings and income to the mind controllers.  The defense those mind-controllers used was typical: the money was a volunteer gift, therefore, no laws could punish them.  However, the exposure led to ordinary people who had fallen victims to the similar trap, albeit smaller scale, to come out.   Through reading their confessions I discovered a pattern:  a woman targeting another woman.  Until recently the world has kn

The true horror stories in Paris-Part 4; Des histoirse d’horreur vraie dans le Paris du XXIe siècle-4e partie ; 現代パリの本当にあった怖い話第4

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Le texte français est en vert (日本語は頁下) I had a trepidation that the manager would not believe my complaint.  Bear in mind that my councilor was a serial liar that she would deny any accusation skillfully.  With a heavy heart I entered the room.    I did not need to worry.  The manager had been suspicious of my councilor for some time. She would not share any information of her clients with the manager and whenever her mistakes surfaced she would shift the blame to her colleagues no matter what.  He was glad to have the opportunity to find out what my councilor had been telling me.  It turned out she had disobeyed every instructions he had given her and she had even given me a warped description of the financial products.  He sighed because his predecessor was the one who hired her, duped by her demure appearance.  In any other country this woman would be sacked, but this is France.  It is virtually impossible to sack an employee. Another Japanese woman was with him.  She was to be

The true horror stories in Paris-Part 3; 現代パリの本当にあった怖い話第3

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‘I am so sorry this should have happened to you,’ said my councilor as she closed into me…again, her disturbing habit.  But in my weakened stress, I almost wanted to believe her sincerity.  ‘How much money does your father keep in his bank account?’ I could not assess her question immediately.  ‘Huh?’  The woman continued firmly. ‘How much is your father in Japan worth?  As his only child, you can invest his money for him.  Let’s move all the Japanese Yen in your family over to France.’  Those were not her exact words, but a summary of her proposal, but her next phrase, I write here word for word.  ‘It is time you deposited your money to this ‘fund’ I have been recommending to you.’  She had shed her usual demureness and was now commanding down to me like a cult guru.  Any other Japanese would have capitulated and I am afraid her other clients had, but I was forged in American school and Australia.  I snapped out of my distress and ‘You see my misfortune and the first thing you