- meet someone from the Agency – obviously in an underground parking lot, at 3 am . That’s the primary reason for my trip to the City of Lights. Consequently, they’d better give me a good job next year. (Which reminds me of a funny story that happened when I was job hunting in Seville with The Man fom Belfast. We would spend our days walking around the city, dropping CVs everywhere and never hearing anything back. One afternoon, I swear it must have been at least 50 degrees, I asked him what middlename the B. on his CV stood for. “Bollocks, give me a fucking job” was the answer. And they did eventually, but it’s a whole other story.)
- wander in the permanent collection of the Pompidou centre.
- avoid carefully the hords of English supporters who will be in town for the France- England game.
- try to see at least a very good film that I am sure will never make it down to Rome, and while I’m at it, why not a gig ?
- drink nasty cafés crèmes and resist the urge to eat French pastry.
- hang out in Gibert bookshops.
- freeze my ass, apparently.
- miss Mademoiselle Red
2 comments:
OOh. Now you've just upped the ante. If you go to a gig and see a film while you are in Paris I think I'll explode with envy. It's bad enought that you're going to frigging Paris in the first place.
You can call me Mademoiselle Green until you get back.
I do hope you'll be wearing a trenchcoat to your meeting. And sunglasses (even at 3am). Possibly a homburg...
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