Mademoiselles of the Evening, Part 3
Feb 5, 2021 15:37:36 #
It was around 1996 of 1997, my wife Jean and I decided we would take a vacation and see Europe. So, we scheduled a trip with a travel agent and tour company to take us through six countries in Europe. Since I had enough points on my American Express card to qualify for first class air flight we decided this was the best way to use them.
However, this was the year that the World Soccer Cup was to be played in Paris and the French Pilots chose to strike and attempting to force the government to raise their pay, most of the air service in and out of France was shut down. Our flight had been scheduled on Delta to New York and then Air France to Paris, and then on to London. I will tell more of this story and the outcome later. But we wound up being bumped up to the La Concorde, which is another story.
I won’t d**g you through all we saw except one event. We had gotten well acquainted with our fellow travelers and were generally having a grand time. One thing the tour guide pointed out as we passed by was the Republic of Texas Embassy Offices which I suppose were made into a museum and are still open.
One evening we were scheduled for a dinner and show in Paris at the Moulin Rouge. Well, we got there early to get good seats. Since Jean had been writing and sending cards back to several friends and her students, she decided it would be a good idea for me to go and mail some of her cards and to buy more stamps. We asked the Mater D just where there might be a postal office. He gave me directions that seemed reasonable, so I strike out to find this place in a city I’ve never been to before.
He had said it was perhaps 6 blocks or so. Well by the time I had walked 12 or more I began to wonder if I hadn’t been sent on a goose chase. Finally, I came to an intersection that formed a Y with an outdoor café situated in the crotch of this Y. Being desperate, I walk up to the café and asked a waiter “Pardon me, but do you speak English” with some trepidation. I wasn’t sure what kind of response I might get; from all the things I had heard about how the French viewed Americans. He responded positively and seemed quite friendly. I asked about the postal office and he told me it was about another 6 blocks down the other leg of this Y.
By now I believe I have walked almost a mile, and now I am being sent in another direction for perhaps another half mile. It left me in a puzzle just how far I had to go and how much longer I would be gone. Finally, I decide to go ahead, In for a Penny, In for a Pound!
Adding to my uncertainty and confusion as I am walking along trying to locate the postal office, I am approached by a lady who propositioned me. She appeared to be older, between 40 and 50 years of age, and dressed in what was probably a raincoat. If I had been thinking, I would have offered her a counter proposal, such as “Lady if you lead me to the post office, I will gladly pay you what you are asking, but I am in no mood for anything other than that!
Now I wasn’t angry but concerned about finding my way back without having to backtrack the entire distance. I thought I had remembered the route our bus had taken to get to the Moulin Rouge, but I calculated the street I was on would eventually take me back to the place I was seeking. All about guessing the last leg of a triangle.
Sure enough, I found the shop with is more like a combination of a Christmas Club, Investment Bank, postal service all rolled up into one. So, I mail the letters and purchase more stamps and get ready to leave. But upon getting out on the sidewalk, I the had the decision to make about going back I had come or try and see if this new road would join the road leading to the Moulin Rouge, since I had memorized the missing leg, I believe I would be successful.
I cannot remember much or anything about how this lady looked or exactly what she said. I do recall it was specific and to the point. I can only guess she knew I was an American, or at least English, because she spoke to me in English.
After mulling this over, I had a perfect excuse to have at least had a cup of coffee or a brandy with the lady and chatted. After all I had been sent off on a goose chase in a strange city with poor instructions. She would have known where the post office was, and whether it was closer to walk back to the supper club taking a different route. I was so determined to get those stamps and get back I was certainly in no mood for anything else.
A few words about high priced prostitutes, they are plenty of street smarts and savvy. They have been in their profession long enough to size men up quickly. They must judge very quickly and accurately if the possible client can afford their services, will he be violent or even dangerous? All this done in a few seconds. I have talked with others, but this is enough for this story. Just Sayin…RJS
However, this was the year that the World Soccer Cup was to be played in Paris and the French Pilots chose to strike and attempting to force the government to raise their pay, most of the air service in and out of France was shut down. Our flight had been scheduled on Delta to New York and then Air France to Paris, and then on to London. I will tell more of this story and the outcome later. But we wound up being bumped up to the La Concorde, which is another story.
I won’t d**g you through all we saw except one event. We had gotten well acquainted with our fellow travelers and were generally having a grand time. One thing the tour guide pointed out as we passed by was the Republic of Texas Embassy Offices which I suppose were made into a museum and are still open.
One evening we were scheduled for a dinner and show in Paris at the Moulin Rouge. Well, we got there early to get good seats. Since Jean had been writing and sending cards back to several friends and her students, she decided it would be a good idea for me to go and mail some of her cards and to buy more stamps. We asked the Mater D just where there might be a postal office. He gave me directions that seemed reasonable, so I strike out to find this place in a city I’ve never been to before.
He had said it was perhaps 6 blocks or so. Well by the time I had walked 12 or more I began to wonder if I hadn’t been sent on a goose chase. Finally, I came to an intersection that formed a Y with an outdoor café situated in the crotch of this Y. Being desperate, I walk up to the café and asked a waiter “Pardon me, but do you speak English” with some trepidation. I wasn’t sure what kind of response I might get; from all the things I had heard about how the French viewed Americans. He responded positively and seemed quite friendly. I asked about the postal office and he told me it was about another 6 blocks down the other leg of this Y.
By now I believe I have walked almost a mile, and now I am being sent in another direction for perhaps another half mile. It left me in a puzzle just how far I had to go and how much longer I would be gone. Finally, I decide to go ahead, In for a Penny, In for a Pound!
Adding to my uncertainty and confusion as I am walking along trying to locate the postal office, I am approached by a lady who propositioned me. She appeared to be older, between 40 and 50 years of age, and dressed in what was probably a raincoat. If I had been thinking, I would have offered her a counter proposal, such as “Lady if you lead me to the post office, I will gladly pay you what you are asking, but I am in no mood for anything other than that!
Now I wasn’t angry but concerned about finding my way back without having to backtrack the entire distance. I thought I had remembered the route our bus had taken to get to the Moulin Rouge, but I calculated the street I was on would eventually take me back to the place I was seeking. All about guessing the last leg of a triangle.
Sure enough, I found the shop with is more like a combination of a Christmas Club, Investment Bank, postal service all rolled up into one. So, I mail the letters and purchase more stamps and get ready to leave. But upon getting out on the sidewalk, I the had the decision to make about going back I had come or try and see if this new road would join the road leading to the Moulin Rouge, since I had memorized the missing leg, I believe I would be successful.
I cannot remember much or anything about how this lady looked or exactly what she said. I do recall it was specific and to the point. I can only guess she knew I was an American, or at least English, because she spoke to me in English.
After mulling this over, I had a perfect excuse to have at least had a cup of coffee or a brandy with the lady and chatted. After all I had been sent off on a goose chase in a strange city with poor instructions. She would have known where the post office was, and whether it was closer to walk back to the supper club taking a different route. I was so determined to get those stamps and get back I was certainly in no mood for anything else.
A few words about high priced prostitutes, they are plenty of street smarts and savvy. They have been in their profession long enough to size men up quickly. They must judge very quickly and accurately if the possible client can afford their services, will he be violent or even dangerous? All this done in a few seconds. I have talked with others, but this is enough for this story. Just Sayin…RJS
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