My first drinks in Paris

So I went out for the first time in Paris today. The term might conjure images of...well it might not conjure any images at all if a certain substance features heavily. Binge-drinking aside, the French (unfortunately or fortunately) seem to have a much more reserved and cultured idea of sortir. That being said, all I did was grab a few drinks at a bar so I might be being unfair to French night-life, we'll see.

Cheering up a cashier

So after having a few drinks with an old friend, I made my way home but not before stopping at the local supermarché to pick up some dinner. Perhaps it was the fact that I'd had a pretty good day or maybe the cocktails were catching up to me (more probable), but I was feeling rather buoyant as I strolled in so I thought I'd strike up a conversation with the miserable-looking cashier. She didn't seem impressed as I greeted her with 'Bonjour Monsieur' then proceeded to forget all my pre-constructed 'spontaneous' small talk. Time to retreat - some battles are best fought another time, and also in a language you know.

The pot de départ

Three of the five interns at the company are leaving this week so we had a little farewell party at the office today. 

Free food, drink and forced conversation

After a few short speeches, people started trickling out until it was pretty much the youngest five in the office left. When the adults are away, the interns will play; most of the two bottles of champagne was consumed by our generation today. Stereotypes are a wonderful thing. This was also the first time I'd properly socialised with the colleagues, and they're not so bad after all (despite the Frenchness). The French are people too, who knew?

Otto's leaving means I'll have more work to do but on the plus side, I get a sweet desk out of it. Like I said, life's a game of give and take.

Monsieur Badrinath can't take your call right now, he's busy posing for a photo

My Metro experiment

Yes, it's another paragraph on the metro. Not a critique today but just an experiment I'm going to try out. Since everyone on the metro looks like they're at a funeral (maybe one for personal space), I've decided I'm going to try and look as cheerful as I possibly can  when I'm on the train from now on. My own little rebellion against miserability.

The face that will bring cheer to the metro/get me arrested

A note on awkwardness

I thought I should quickly address the issue since our generation seems obsessed with the term. If you think you know awkward, think again. There's nothing worse than an awkward situation in another language. Not only can you barely make conversation but you can't pre-empt any awkwardness because you don't have the linguistic skill. This was painfully obvious at the leaving party; if you're me you just point out the closest thing you know the French word for. 

So in a lull in converation, I randomly blurted out "tomate".

Peace from Paris.