Day 8ish Part Two

Woo Hoo! I get back to the room and there’s towels!! But um… my blanket is gone. Not the comforter that came on the bed, but MY blanket. Ok I don’t want to sound like I’m three, but I have this blanket that I kinda stole from first class Korean Airlines. It’s the perfect size and thickness. I rarely use the blankets on my own bed because this is perfect. I mean, I stole it from someone so I guess I have it coming to me that someone else steals it from me? So I call the office and politely thank them (totally assuming for their sake) for cleaning it for me, but if they can being it back tomorrow, it would be great. She said it was no problem so if I don’t see a purple Korean Airlines blanket on my bed tomorrow, I’m marching my happy butt right on down to the office.

On the upside my laundry was done! But, um… now for the dryer? I started it the first time, now what buttons did I press? Somehow I started the washer all over again and it started to fill with water. Frantically pushing any button that would make it stop, it finally emptied of water, but the thing wouldn’t open! I tried everything at it was locked shut. After fighting with the thing for about ten minutes, I gave up and sat in the dinning room. As soon as I did, out of the corner of my eye, the “lock” button started flashing. I dashed over and pulled open the door. Triumphantly, I rejoiced in overcoming the battle between me and the foreign washing machine! Um, but they’re still sopping wet. I proceeded to ring out all of my clothes and hang them on the towel rack in the bathroom. Hopefully the maid doesn’t steal them!!

I laid down to watch TV and of course, nothing in English. I did notice that I had a bug bit on my arm this morning and it’s progressively getting larger and larger. Hopefully my arm doesn’t fall off or a spider didn’t lay eggs in my arm because I have a flight to catch and I don’t have time to go to the hospital in France!!

To avoid being a loser, I walked over to the other internet café. I spend almost all day there between posts, emails, and homework. The older gentleman that runs it speaks very good English and he’s so polite. For some reason the wi-fi wasn’t working and I really didn’t want to use their PCs because their keyboard isn’t the same. He tried for almost 20 minutes and felt bad so he gave me a free coffee. Ugh, I’m wired now!! I asked for some gum because the stuff was strong! They call it Hollywood Chewing Gum out here. I laughed and asked him why that was and he replied, “Because that’s what they do in Hollywood.” (chomp chomp) Um, OK. So they don’t chew gum in France? LoL. That’s a pretty weird stereotype! Since Johnny left I didn’t have an adapter for my laptop plug. I was looking for one all day and didn’t find one so I asked him if he knew where I could get one. And then like magic, he bent down and one just appeared! LoL. Why didn’t I ask him before?!? Oh, a side note… all of their computers have little cameras on top and this guy was using it to sign to someone! It was so cool!!! I love sign language.

I finished up some work and headed back to my room. I was hungry so I decided to have dinner at good old Micky Dees. I put on my new boots, my new jewelry, and even put on some make-up. =) What? I needed to feel pretty! I know, all to go to McDonald’s. But this is dinner. You’re supposed to get dressed for dinner… no matter where it is right? Haha. Ok fine. No.

Apparently the French think I’m Caribbean and won’t leave me alone, at least that is what I was told. Whatever. I’m not trying to pat my self on the back or say that I’m worthy of all these guys hitting on me because really, Tamara is way prettier than I am but they look at me?!? What the heck. The point is that guys will try to talk to me and I guess the dear-in-headlights look gives me away. They politely step down. But not the guys tonight at McDonald’s. I honestly couldn’t stop laughing. So I’m sitting there trying to eat and there’s a group of guys nest to me that are trying to talk to me but I obviously don’t understand. Instead of giving up they just keep on talking to me. They are going on and on and on and I’m just sitting there like, hello, I don’t understand you!!! One of them asks me my name and repeats it, like he’s processing it. I go back to working and a couple minutes later I hear, “Ashley, ASHLEY, ashley?, aaaashley,” as if he’s practicing saying my name? I jut look at them and start busting up and then we’re all rolling and I have NO IDEA still what they’re saying. So I go back to working and again, a few minutes later, “Ashley?” I look up and they start talking to me again. Dude!!! What don’t YOU understand about me NOT understanding YOU? As if maybe if he gave it a minute, I’d magically be able to understand French. This amusement went on for about fifteen minutes until one guy turned to me and said, “Ashley, suck my…” Yes. He said it. My smile faded really quick and judging from the looks on their faces they knew that maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say. They tried calling me a few more times and I ignored them. Out of the corner of my eye I could tell that they felt bad. When they left, they tried to say sorry but my glare stopped him mid sentence. You know, the glare you give a child when they’ve gone too far and you’re about to hand it to them? I cut him off and said to him without being loud and ghetto but instead with that calm yet stern voice that means business, “Don’t you ever say that again! If you’re trying to pick up on women, that is NOT what you want to say. Possibly it would be best for you to learn a new phrase. Thanks for the offer but NO!” He walked away quietly with his head low and tail between his legs. Pervert!