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08.04.02: Le Royal, boulevard Voltaire / rue Richard-Lenoir Embarassing Paris anecdote #17: locking myself out of my apartment. Twice. The first time, in between the two bike trips last August, was definitely the more traumatic -- just before dusk on a Sunday, and I had all of 4 FF on me to buy the baguette that got me into this predicament, and not a soul in town I could reliably think to call for help (even if I could have, I had no money for a phonecard). My solution, after close to an hour of hesitation, second-guessing, and hyperventilating, was to sidle across the drainpipe from the balcony outside my front door to the balcony outside the open living room window -- all of this seven floors up from the courtyard below, of course. A desperate and moronic act, one to tell the grandchildren. This time things were a little less desolate in my life (although it was, coincidentally, also a Sunday). I had just left to meet Brian for a film, so I immediately called to cancel and called up Nathalie to see if I could crash and mope. The next morning Thomas and I made the rounds of the locksmiths to find the best deal to bust me back in, but since nobody could do it for at least another hour, all I could do was buy the paper and grab a coffee.
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