Back in la belle France
Well, after a wonderful, well-spent, relaxing vacation in beautiful, Ohio, Illinois, Wisconsin, Indiana, and Kentucky, I have made it back to Pau, but not without a real life science fiction traveling story - only it's not fiction.
My flight arrived late into Paris, causing me to miss my connecting flight to Toulouse, from where I was going to have to buy a train ticket to Pau. When I went to the transfer desk to fix my problem, they not only went ahead and gave me a direct flight to Pau, but since the flight was six hours later, they went ahead and gave me a meal ticket at the airport. This apparently is not common for Paris airport workers to treat people this nicely, so I already felt weird about the trip, but that's really just the entrance into the zone de twilight.
It was about 2:00 in the afternoon, I was in Terminal 2F, and I still had 4 hours before my flight. I decided that I needed to freshen up a bit, and I kind of needed a toilet as well, so I decided to find a nice men's room where I could put on some deodorant, brush my teeth, use the toilet, etc.
Attempt 1: All the stalls looked like they were occupied, but I tried to open one anyway, the man therein yelled at me, and not wishing to stay in this bathroom, I left to find another one.
Attempt 2: After walking about a third of a mile, I located a sign for another men's room - this one was a bit more obscure, so I hoped maybe the stalls wouldn't be full. Upon entering, I found a janitor beginning to clean, he told me the bathroom was fermée.
Attempt 3: I was now at the extreme end of the airport. I found a men's room, but the part with the stalls was closed because a small Asian lady was cleaning the bathroom.
Attempt 4: I turned around and walked the almost mile-long course to the bathroom where Attempt 1 had taken place. This bathroom was also closed, because it was being cleaned by a very familiar looking small Asian lady.
Attempt 5: My desire to find a place to freshen up was being increasingly over-ridden by a need for a toilet. Having searched every men's room in Terminal 2F, I continued on to terminal 2D, but between the two terminals, I thought I had lucked out, because there was an airport hotel, and a sign for a men's room. When I went in, what did I find, but a suspiciously familiar, small, Asian woman cleaning it.
Attempt 6: Tormented by this strange, omnipresent janitor, I increased my walking speed - partly because I really had to go to the bathroom at this point (I had been looking for bathrooms for approximately an hour by this time) and partly because I was determined to beat the janitor (whose omnipresence, I believe, was fueled by the devil) to the next bathroom. I beat her. I found a free stall in the restaurant portion of Terminal 2D - thank You, Lord! Unfortunately, too much people traffic to be able to freshen up, but my most urgent need was taken care of.
Attempt 7: Still wanted to freshen up, but where? I was sure by this time, that the small Asian female clones had taken over all the bathrooms in the airport. Then I spotted a sign for a shopping boutique. The light of revelation was revealed! Mall bathrooms in France are never clean! I found the mall, found the empty restroom, and after an hour and a half of frantic searching, I beat the French janitors!!! hahahahahahaha - I need sleep.
My flight arrived late into Paris, causing me to miss my connecting flight to Toulouse, from where I was going to have to buy a train ticket to Pau. When I went to the transfer desk to fix my problem, they not only went ahead and gave me a direct flight to Pau, but since the flight was six hours later, they went ahead and gave me a meal ticket at the airport. This apparently is not common for Paris airport workers to treat people this nicely, so I already felt weird about the trip, but that's really just the entrance into the zone de twilight.
It was about 2:00 in the afternoon, I was in Terminal 2F, and I still had 4 hours before my flight. I decided that I needed to freshen up a bit, and I kind of needed a toilet as well, so I decided to find a nice men's room where I could put on some deodorant, brush my teeth, use the toilet, etc.
Attempt 1: All the stalls looked like they were occupied, but I tried to open one anyway, the man therein yelled at me, and not wishing to stay in this bathroom, I left to find another one.
Attempt 2: After walking about a third of a mile, I located a sign for another men's room - this one was a bit more obscure, so I hoped maybe the stalls wouldn't be full. Upon entering, I found a janitor beginning to clean, he told me the bathroom was fermée.
Attempt 3: I was now at the extreme end of the airport. I found a men's room, but the part with the stalls was closed because a small Asian lady was cleaning the bathroom.
Attempt 4: I turned around and walked the almost mile-long course to the bathroom where Attempt 1 had taken place. This bathroom was also closed, because it was being cleaned by a very familiar looking small Asian lady.
Attempt 5: My desire to find a place to freshen up was being increasingly over-ridden by a need for a toilet. Having searched every men's room in Terminal 2F, I continued on to terminal 2D, but between the two terminals, I thought I had lucked out, because there was an airport hotel, and a sign for a men's room. When I went in, what did I find, but a suspiciously familiar, small, Asian woman cleaning it.
Attempt 6: Tormented by this strange, omnipresent janitor, I increased my walking speed - partly because I really had to go to the bathroom at this point (I had been looking for bathrooms for approximately an hour by this time) and partly because I was determined to beat the janitor (whose omnipresence, I believe, was fueled by the devil) to the next bathroom. I beat her. I found a free stall in the restaurant portion of Terminal 2D - thank You, Lord! Unfortunately, too much people traffic to be able to freshen up, but my most urgent need was taken care of.
Attempt 7: Still wanted to freshen up, but where? I was sure by this time, that the small Asian female clones had taken over all the bathrooms in the airport. Then I spotted a sign for a shopping boutique. The light of revelation was revealed! Mall bathrooms in France are never clean! I found the mall, found the empty restroom, and after an hour and a half of frantic searching, I beat the French janitors!!! hahahahahahaha - I need sleep.
posted by Andy at 8:13 AM
1 Comments:
Glad to hear you've still alive, Andy. How's the weather over there? Do the French use toliet paper? :-]
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