lost in Paris
enjoyed the read, but felt bad about your travails
I once took the night train from Amsterdam to Paris and got off at the North Station. I walked around for a long time - seems 8 years of French classes tipped off the Parisiennes that I was not one of them. Got lost around the Bastille. Crossing the street in a crowd, an Arab thrust himself out of the oncoming rush of people and blazed at me with a raised knife. To my horror and surprise, he brought the blade down and stabbed in the gut the guy walking about a pace behind me. I never knew blood could spurt out like that and in such volume. I walked on, as did everyone else in the street, all of us oblivious to the poor bastard stabbed and bleeding in the street. Le clochard, the pimp who had stabbed the man, spit on his victim and hurled invectives.
What a fucking disgusing story, eh?