Where is my car?
Saturday evening, after spending the whole day sleeping and chilling at home, I decided to go out and have diner with my parents and my little brother.
I got ready, closed the door and started walking towards where I had left my car the day before. On the way I saw a van pulled out on a truck by the police and I couldn't help but laughing at the poor guy who parked there. BIG MISTAKE.
I kept walking and half way across the street I realized. The whole boulevard was empty. And my car... vanished!
I can already hear all of you thinking: oooooh, kaaarma!
It was 4°C outside (39°F), I was wearing nothing but sweater and and thin jacket. I was freezing! So I asked a cop what was happening and where did my car go. He said they were moving all the the cars on the boulevard because of the march on the following day. Why do all the marches have to end at Nation? Anyway, so the cop asked for my license plate, and called to know where my car had been moved. And while we were standing there on the sidewalk, the weirdest thing happened. Out of nowhere, a guy who was smoking a cigarette like one meter away from us let out a loud and clear fart. I was like noooo he did not just do that! The cop looked at him, he was just standing there, smoking, like nobody noticed anything. The cop then told me nobody knows yet where my car is but he gave me a phone number I could call later to know where to look for it. 30 seconds later the guy farted again, and a third time. That's when I left to take the metro. I am almost positive there was a hidden camera somewhere near us. I wanted to ask the guy where the camera was but I was freezing and not in the mood to waste my time for that kind of stuff. But there had to be one, these things don't just happen like that, do they?
Once at my parents my dad and I must have called the number the cop gave me almost 15 times. The answer was always the same: "We don't know yet where your car is but call back in 10 minutes". Right! So after a couple of hours they finally gave my dad the address where they parked the car: 4 Picpus. The problem is there is a boulevard called Picpus AND a street called Picpus. YAY! So we spent 45 minutes between 2:30AM and 3:15AM looking for my car in the wrong area; which we found out to be 50 meters away from my apartment... with an 11€ ticket on it! I could even see it from the balcony.
I love spending great weekends in Paris. Please tell me yours was better!
I got ready, closed the door and started walking towards where I had left my car the day before. On the way I saw a van pulled out on a truck by the police and I couldn't help but laughing at the poor guy who parked there. BIG MISTAKE.
I kept walking and half way across the street I realized. The whole boulevard was empty. And my car... vanished!
I can already hear all of you thinking: oooooh, kaaarma!
It was 4°C outside (39°F), I was wearing nothing but sweater and and thin jacket. I was freezing! So I asked a cop what was happening and where did my car go. He said they were moving all the the cars on the boulevard because of the march on the following day. Why do all the marches have to end at Nation? Anyway, so the cop asked for my license plate, and called to know where my car had been moved. And while we were standing there on the sidewalk, the weirdest thing happened. Out of nowhere, a guy who was smoking a cigarette like one meter away from us let out a loud and clear fart. I was like noooo he did not just do that! The cop looked at him, he was just standing there, smoking, like nobody noticed anything. The cop then told me nobody knows yet where my car is but he gave me a phone number I could call later to know where to look for it. 30 seconds later the guy farted again, and a third time. That's when I left to take the metro. I am almost positive there was a hidden camera somewhere near us. I wanted to ask the guy where the camera was but I was freezing and not in the mood to waste my time for that kind of stuff. But there had to be one, these things don't just happen like that, do they?
Once at my parents my dad and I must have called the number the cop gave me almost 15 times. The answer was always the same: "We don't know yet where your car is but call back in 10 minutes". Right! So after a couple of hours they finally gave my dad the address where they parked the car: 4 Picpus. The problem is there is a boulevard called Picpus AND a street called Picpus. YAY! So we spent 45 minutes between 2:30AM and 3:15AM looking for my car in the wrong area; which we found out to be 50 meters away from my apartment... with an 11€ ticket on it! I could even see it from the balcony.
I love spending great weekends in Paris. Please tell me yours was better!
posted by Cyril at
10:26
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