Ok so, believe it or not: I found a place. It’s a 12 m² (118,4 sq.
ft. for those of you thinking that life with the metric system is
just not complicated enough) studio-apartment. Basically it's more of
a big toilet with lodging; but it is right next to Place Pigalle,
which is right next to the Moulin Rouge, which is right next to a lot
of hookers and sex-shops. But maybe even more importantly, it's at
walking distance from my universities. So from now on it's going to
be 15 minute walks instead of 1 hour train rides. I think that's what
Aretha Franklin thought about when she wrote “Freedom”.
Finalizing the deal was a
bit more of a hustle than I expected. My landlady, a very nice
elderly lady, lives in a district of Paris that is actually called
“Stalingrad”. As a German, getting on a train to Stalingrad
doesn't really bring up all that many happy thoughts, but turns out
it is one of the most beautiful areas of Paris. Times are changing...
Having arrived at
her house, the first thing my landlady did was to open a bottle of
wine which, with some help from her Brazilian boyfriend, was finished
pretty quickly. So the second bottle was open before we even started
talking about the down payment.
By the time we got to that
I expected to sign something, but it turns out that with a written
contract she'd have to pay taxes and that just seems like a waste of
money. Since I've already seen the place, know where she lives and
already had quite some wine I decided to trust her. Let's hope that
doesn't turn out to be a mistake.
After the work was done
she proposed a toast, which seemed fair, given the occasion. But
after she listed all the liquors and liqueurs she had and I didn't
know any of them, she somehow felt it to be her duty to introduce me
to all of them within less than an hour, and she had quite the
collection…
Having said our
goodbyes it was time for me to head to a little get-together of some
friends of a friend. I had never met them before and it turned out
the whole thing was pretty posh and sophisticated. Believe me,
somewhere between tipsy and just plain drunk is not the state you
want to be in when some kids from Yale want to discuss German
politics. I don't think I came across all that bright.
Greetings from the no
longer homeless drunk.
Because drinking out of glasses is just too mainstream
Daddy is so proud
French cinema asking the questions that will face all of us one day or another
My University
Brothers in thought
The name of the statue: "Where is the rest?"
And of course the obligatory photo of the famous Eiffel Tower
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