Glenda and I were on our way to the Musee d'Orsay, when we found out that the Orsay was closed because of a transportation strike. On the steps of the Orsay, Glenda encountered her first scammer. It was the wedding ring scam. Where there was a wedding ring on the ground. a lady picked it up and said to Glenda"do you think that this is gold. Do you want the ring" Glenda said no and she saw the lady go to another and tryed to pawn off the scan. Glenda claims that after the scanner gives you the free ring. She comes back and asks you for money as she is poor.
As none of the other museums are open on Tuesday we decided to take the hop on hop off bus and go shopping on the Champs Elysee. The weather again was beautiful and I needed my sun glasses. Our shopping trip was short but sucessful as Glenda was getting some special product for a friend back home. I bought some make up and nail polish as I want to do my nails before I go on the Rome trip.
We were just about to switch lines when the bus driver told us that line would be closed and we could not switch lines at this time. So we hopped back on the bus and rode that to a point where we could get the metro back to our apartment. As we neared our apartment the traffic in the street of our apartment was very heavy and a policeman on a motorcycle almost ran me down. He apologized as he drove past me. Glenda and I were confused but now for long.
We saw up ahead on a road that travels over our street a line of protesters and torches. On our street level were policeman and Glenda wanted to get closer to the action. She asked a female police officer if she spoke English. She did and we asked her what was going on. She said that this was the workers protest against the senate changing the retirement age of 60 to 62 and full benefit age from 65 to 66. Also they were prostesting the lowering of pension funds and demanding that money to be restated. The police officer was sort of empathetic with the cause as she too was a state civil servant and did not want her eventual pension or pension age to change.The police officer said to us that this is the way the French say No! and she held up her hand in a fist. We asked her how long the strike would last and she said she did not know. It could go on for a few days. To find out more about this subject go to Union protest in Paris, Oct 12, 2010, Paris, France on the computer.
After watching the protest march for a few more minutes we went back to our apartment to get ready for dinner. We had decided that we would go to the Vietnam restaurant only a few buildings away from our building. As it was 530 when we got back to the apartment, we had to wait until 7 pm for the restaurant to open. My boyfriend John will remember well our unhappiness of not being able to eat at our regular time of 5pm and having to wait till 7pm for the restaurants to open.
Well we both rested and were so tired we were afraid we would miss dinner. We were hungry and wanted to try the restaurant so we clock watched for the next 30 minutes. Tick Tock, Tick Tock. Finally the time came. We spruced up and ran out the door. The restaurant was just openning and a gentleman who we had seen out there earlier was there to greet us. I thought he might be the owner but he turned out to be a drunk Irishman. He ushered us into the restaurant and sat us down at a table. Then he joined the merry group of us two. He had a glass of wine in his hand. It turned out that he spoke English and it was about this time I realized he was not the owner and I became a little concerned. I had not wanted to lead him on or be rude and so Glenda and I at first just nodded and gave him short answers. The waitress came up and took Glenda and mine orders. The drunk Irisman claimed that he was going to pay the bill and that we could order anything we wanted. Of course this is not what Glenda and I wanted but we were not moving. What saved us is that he smoked and could not smoke in the restaurant and also he had to use the toilette once or twice. Glenda wanted to go behind the bar to tell the waitress that we did not want him to pay for the bill. In order to get away from our table to do this she had to say she wanted to go to the toilette. As a charming Irish gentleman, he offered and insisted on escorting her to the toilette.this was not a large restaurant and the toilette was upstairs and he took her all the way up. She said she could manage but he insisted. Luckily he did allow her to go into the toilette alone. In the mean time I was feeling a little easier as I though Glenda was talking to the waitress. As it turned out she had whispered to the waitress that we wanted to pay the bill. She told Glenda that the gentleman was a frequent client and that he was nice but drank to much. He wanted to treat us to wine but Glenda and I were having none of that influence. Now don't think that this gentleman was a complete slob. He was drunk and carring a glass of wine. He was well dressed and spoke English quite well. I finally began to feel that he was not a threat to us and began asking him questions. He did admit that he had been drinking for the past 2 days and that he had a problem with the drink. He was an expatriot of Ireland for the past 22 years and was 58 years. He came from a family of 6 and had attended Trinty college. He knew a lot about Chicago and that Mayor Daley was a crook. He claimed he had worked in Texas once as a Computer programer for telephones but lost that job because of his Irish curse.(Glenda says that my questioning him was like completing a vocational interview assessment.)but this is just me as I am interested in people, He kept on saying he wanted to take us to a night club or to his house. I told him we were proper American girls and that we could not accept his kind gestures. As we finished our delicious dinner and was able to pay the waitress he said he had to use the toilette and he hoped that we would wait for him. However as soon as he got out of view, Glenda and I made a run for it.
Well we got back and talked about what we would do the next day. I went on line to see if there was any news of the strike and sure enough it was posted that the protest/strike had really disrupted services in Paris.. Many airplanes had been cancelled and buses were not running. Glenda and I felt lucky we had not been bothered with the protest. But we began to worry about how long the strike would last and would we be able to take the plane on saturday. How would we get to Rome to meet our tour group and where would we stay if we could not get out of Paris. I went to bed and Glenda looked on the internet to the website that she can watch her dog at the woofdorf kennel.
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