Metro, Boulot, Dodo
So, the Parisians have a saying: metro, boulot, dodo which means metro, work, sleep and my first couple of weeks certainly felt that way!
The metro is truly a Parisian institution, and is one of the few things that can truly bond all Parisians, they hate it. From the overcrowded, sweaty commutes to and from work, the constant maintenance that closes entire stations for months on end, and the endless tourists clogging up ticket barriers and corridors staring at maps (how dare they not already have the metro figured out before they come here?)
My worst experience (of two) on the metro happened one morning on the way to work. I was strutting towards the exit of Champ du Mars RER stop, in a pair of black heeled sandals that I thought were très chic, when I heard the sound you never like to hear and felt the squidge under my foot. I'd stepped in dog shit. Worst of all it had smeared itself all up the side of my left foot. Gross. I was so embarrassed as everyone looked at me pityingly and couldn't get up the metro steps fast enough, leaving a lovely trail behind me.
Once outside I spent a decent 10 minutes trying to wipe myself clean on a tiny patch of grass I'd found, it worked, sort of. This whole ordeal had me running late to work and so run I did, arriving at the school to pick up the boy I teach, horribly out of breath only for him to point at my foot in front of all the parents and his teacher asking, "WHAT is that?"
Merde. Quite literally.