Jan 6, 2008
That's right. There's all sort of shapes for all sorts of tastes out there.
Sunday afternoon in my parisian apartment, trying to look up images of black lycra tights on the internet and ending up on dailymotion looking at videos of big butts while listening to a t.v show on the popularity of french fries. Thinking of jogging again but Paris is covered in dog shit: too risky. Missing my treadmill.
Black lycra tights: that's what i saw this morning on the way to the bakery. A woman in her mid-forties, with shiny black lycra tights on, mid-calf high boots, a long turquoise coat furry on the edges, a crazy hairdo—long dark curly hair and a face painted like she was getting ready to go out all night, and two tiny, all dressed up, dogs on leash on either side. She looked like she was coming out of a John Waters movie. The only thing i could ask myself was "does she pick up her dogs' excrement?"! And then i saw a young man rollerblading with his arms wrapped around two full bags of morning pastries. An image that symbolizes french sunday mornings to me. As for the other war painted creature, well i guess that was just another one of those encounters that makes you smile while reminding you that some live in a world diametrically opposite yours. I'm looking forward to seeing more of this. I also met another eccentric individual in a governmental office. I had been waiting for awhile to be seen by an agent, when a 50 year old lady came to the front desk to look at the names on the waiting list. She read my name while turning towards me (i was the only one waiting so she couldn't really guess wrong) and told me to wait another 2-3 minutes—the time for her to go smoke her cigarette. T.I.F.(This Is France) In half an hour's time i learned that she had terrible eyesight since she was a kid, that she wore her first pair of contact lenses when she was 16, that she didn't have a driver's license and had been discouraged both by her mother and eye doctor to drive because of her poor sight. She wanted to buy a Ligier car -the sport version- a car the size of a yogurt pot that you can drive without a license, except she was concerned about its price, didn't have a clue on how to buy one (internet vs car dealership—to which i suggested a dealer, the wrong word to use in french since it implies drug dealing) and worst of worst, was extremely worried about the fact that, sometimes, her contact lenses jump out of her eyes. I asked if her eyeballs were shaped differently than other's and her answer was no, of course, but that her problem was that she gets very agitated at times, so agitated (like when she's on her period—i don't know how to say "T.M.I" -Too Much Information- in french) that they fall out of her eyes. And then what would she do if that happened while driving?! Last but not least, she went to the u.s on vacation a bunch of times, but never to SF because someone told her once that it was a gay town! I told her it was a gay "mecca". When i made it clear that my partner was female she winked at me like "oh, that's cool, i'm fine with it", but later on she also let me know that she wasn't pro-gay marriage and didn't think gay people should raise kids. That was a superb caricature of a prejudiced individual in total denial about her homophobic stance.