The true horror stories in modern Paris Part 20

I am drained, I am fighting palpation.  The new true horror story in the modern Paris is difficult for me to write because I am still living the nightmare.  It is not over after 6 months and the perpetrator is gaining the ground.  Because it is true I have to alter some aspects so as not to be sued for the invasion of privacy.  However, I am so weaken, mentally and physically, that I am not up to the task. A few neighbors have left because of this restaurant from hell.   And yet the owner who is charming to the celebrities, but shamelessly cruel to ordinary folks, is enjoying parties every night while ripping the tourists off during the day in the middle of the historic Marais.  She is a racist, of course, but the Chinese guests who hold celebration gatherings do not know the corners have been cut off from their food and drinks.   She has pulled a few strings to get the restaurant on even the Tripadvisor.  The first review was an obvious set-up, but the second one complained of thei

The true horror stories in modern Paris Part 19

There is a police station on the island of Cite in the middle of historical Paris.  It is where the world renowned La Notre Dame Cathedral is crowned.  The price of real estate of this island is literally ‘Priceless.’  And yet, behind the cathedral stands this police station (not to be confused with the prefecture de police on the other side of the Cathedral).  From the point of views of any real estate agents, it is a massive waste of potential, but…the history of this tiny area is too horrendous that may even have defeated human greed and vanity.  Now that does not happen normally, but this is Paris. What I am about to share here, I must admit I have seen only two sources: Wikipedia and the news site LOCAL.  However, I could not find any other credible explanation for this peculiar situation of this tiny spot behind the altar of God.   There once operated this butcher who offered cheap accommodation to the tourists.    The accommodation in Paris must have always been exp

The true horror stories in modern Paris Part 18

I could see from the ripped corner of the large envelope that it was a bag of snack.  Why anyone would go pale over that, I wondered.  We were still at the talking stage, Leila and me.  I suggested ‘Has a company sent you a sample?’  She replied ‘No’ with a subdued voice.  ‘A gift from your friend?’  I asked thinking it would be an odd gift to send by post.  Leila blurted out, ‘but I am allergic to this!  No friend of mine would send me this stuff!’  Some allergic is more serious than others.  People can pass out…even on the street where automobiles go by.  The snack would be an unkind gift in this case.  ‘Do you recognize the name of the sender?’  Leila showed me it was blank.  To make the matter weirder, it had been posted overseas.  I was absolutely stupefied. A few months later, here I was looking at another anonymous package addressed to Leila.  I could tell the content was again a bag of snack.  Someone wanted her dead.  I just sensed it.  I saw the postage and recognize

The true horror stories in modern Paris Part 17

North Korea launched another missile towards Japan just hours ago and yet I am updating my blog as business as usual.  Just as we often refuse to confront the imminent danger, we also deny the past danger as if it had been all in our mind.   In my case, I wanted to retain faith in humanity so as days gone by I tried to see Leila in a more sympathetic light.  Had she not been suffering from chronical pain in her joints, she may not have mixed up with a bad news like him.  Then she may have been nicer, if not less anti-social… However, I could not suppress the memory of her high heels persistently struck against the tile floor in the middle of night.  The impact did not just annoy Mr. A. and me, but it may have well been the reason her joints were damaged which led to her having chronical pain.  Maybe it was her malicious intent that started the whole negative spiral karma after all... It was with this thought I stood in front of the mailbox when the postman placed a packet as

The true horror stories in modern Paris Part 16

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’ Choi

The true horror stories in modern Paris Part 15

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 fiancĂ©.  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 th

The true horror stories in Paris-Part 14

Up to this point I had never thought of the possibility of the two neighbours from Hell being involved in crimes.  I was afraid of Leila’s fiancĂ© turning physically violent on me, but the frequent use of the washing machine upstairs was becoming abnormal.  So I decided to google two words, ‘washing machine’ and the other word…I had no ideas what it was called because I was a boring prude that I still am.  Then by pure luck the YouTube videos featuring Mr. Bill Maher that I had been following was discussing the medical use of some potent plants.  I saw the word that starts with ‘W’ on the monitor next to Mr. Maher.  That must be the second word I needed.  I googled and then was blown away by all the videos that came up.  I knew that man was not in cleanliness.  But how could Leila, who seemingly a smart woman, could be supporting such a man?  Then I remembered one conversation we had before she turned anti-social on me. I remembered Leila hobbling down the stairs a few days aft