October 11, 2007

Le Pouf and Le Doorman

I will be moving out of my apartment at the end of the month. I love it. Its cute and very nice,but its so friggin small its giving me anxiety. I can t even really unpack b/c there isnt enough space for my baggage and clothes. Not even HALF! so... i shall talk to the french director about that remedy tomorrow. moving onward and upward!

But more so than the space...is the fact that my doorman/concierge does not speak English- at all! and even with my vast knowledge of french, eh hem, our relationship is nil.Who can I talk to when I stumble home, if not my door guy? thats not what I waited this long to have a doorman be to me!! He needs to be my rock. My pillow. My cutting board and my muse and confidant to which i can tell anything, and he can see anything... but No. he is none of that. I even gave up on Bonjour with him. I now just say "Hi" and secretly cry inside.

Last week when I blew a power fuse and had to go down for help barefoot and in a robe at 2pm, he didnt even laugh at me. he stared at me until I showed him my dazzling jazz hands and went "pouf" and then held up hands one, then zero then seven on my fingers. "poof, poof, le poof" while kicking and hand jazzing and sure enough, the international language worked! he was at my door (#107) ready to flip switches in 5 minutes flat.

That my friends is what we call French with English Subtitles.

No comments: