Never Set Anything Down

Market at Les Halles

 PART 2 – OK, I know it was really not fair to do a cliffhanger blog post. Maybe I just wanted to be sure that all you readers hear this story so it doesn’t happen to you. The relationship between this next piece to eat,play,shop is that if it happens to you, you won’t be able to do any of the three. This post isn’t all about this story, but it’s what we started with on Thursday morning…

We were all set to leave the apartment and meet a new friend when Debra discovered her wallet was missing. Her wallet contained her credit and ATM cards, plus all the cash she had on hand. (Luckily that was only about 100 Euros. But, it was the sum total of her cash.) If this has ever happened to you, you can imagine where it is going. 

We tore apart the place, looking under everything and trying to retrace our steps from the evening before. The conclusion was that Debra had set her wallet down while bagging groceries at  the Monoprix. She never picked it back up.

We hightailed over to the Monoprix to ask if they had the wallet. After a false alarm in which the checker smiled broadly and called someone to the register (we found out she was only smiling because she was finally able to comprehend our question) we learned that there was no trace of Debra’s wallet in the store. I couldn’t even imagine how Debra must be feeling at that moment.

Back at the apartment, it took only about 20 minutes to get in touch with her bank (which I’ll refer to as ” Big Large American Bank”  or BLAB)  to make sure there were no funny charges and cancel her cards. I was congratulating us and the BLAB system for being so efficient. That was, until she tried to get some money. I bank at BLAB too, so it should have been simple for them to transfer some cash to me. We tried that online (after Debra had to call to get her username, which most of us forget after we tell our computers to save them.) It seems you need your ATM card number to do an inside-the-bank transfer. Oops! No more ATM card… plus it was canceled. Next try, online wire transfer. Nope! Can’t do that with another bank customer. At least, not online. Could they give us a phone number? The “wire transfer” department was closed.

Umpteen phone calls later, over 2 days where Debra was transferred from department to department in an infinite loop going nowhere, she got nowhere. The more desperate she sounded on the phone, the faster they transferred her,  accidentally disconnected her or gave her a toll free number that only works in the US. (She wasn’t desperate, because she had me to give her cash, a computer and a phone to use, but still…) It was unbelievable! We kept asking ourselves, what would she do if she were traveling alone and this happened? She’d be singing in the Metro Station with a cup in front of her, that’s what!

After two days of these shenanigans, her workplace wired her upcoming paycheck into my account. No problems! One request, one minute. Problem solved.

The moral of the story: Now more than ever, you need to heed what the travel books tell you. Bring photocopies of EVERYTHING you carry. Write down your user names, passwords, bank account numbers and emergency collect phone numbers. Keep some cash and  a card separate from your wallet and have an emergency plan with someone who can help you. And never, ever set anything down! (Just because I just wrote that sentence doesn’t mean I had learned the lesson yet. Read on and see.)

I must hand it to Debra. About an hour after the original discovery of the lost wallet, she was ready to go out and have some fun. We didn’t yet know of the impending struggle with BLAB, but she shored her spirit and we proceeded out the door, got her some cash (I felt like a mom giving her an allowance) and hopped on the metro to meet our new friend.  I’ll refer to our  new friend as “Jenny the Jet-Setting Nanny.” (This is not her name, but I wanted to protect her identity. Apparently, she works for some pretty important people and I’m sure they would object if I said anything in the blog about anything.)

We didn’t yet know “Jenny.” I saw her ad on a site called Anglo Info, which is a great place to find out what to do, and how to connect here in Paris with other english speakers. She arrived here the same day I did and had placed an ad looking for peeps to explore the city with. I contacted her and it turns out we have lots in common. She lived in the Bay Area for a long time, and in Arizona, too! Thursday we had planned to meet her at noon at the big giant head at Les Halles. (See previous post for pic of big giant head.) After the wallet debacle we moved our meeting to 1:30, but a solid day of eating, playing and shopping ensued…

Me in front of a cool shop we found

EAT- First things first, we found her and then went straight to the popular street, rue Montrueil (sp?) to sit down at a cafe and have some lunch. My salade nicoise there was excellent, as was the glass of wine that Debra and I decided was very appropriate considering the morning’s activity. At our lunch we learned all about “Jenny’s” new job as day nanny for a family who lives here in Paris, among other locations. She has already been whisked off to the south of france and is ready to go elsewhere, like the middle east, at a moments notice. We learned a bit about how the other half lives. It was fascinating to hear about the lifestyle and now the nanny fits into it. In addition to being a jet-setting nanny, she has had a fascinating life doing other things as well. I’m happy we met Jenny, and plan to spend more time exploring with her in the future… when her employers haven’t taken her to some other exotic place, that is.

While we were in Les Halles area we got to explore a beautiful outdoor market, where we got rotisserie chicken and some unbelievable potatoes to take home for dinner.

PLAY - Debra and I had a chance to show our “Metro Chops” as we gave Jenny a tutorial about how to use the metro. She had been so busy since arriving that the idea of figuring that out was a little too much. No problem, Debra and I are experts at experiential learning. By the end of the day Jenny was riding like a pro.

Sometime during the tutorial we ran across a string orchestra playing a selection from Carmenin the Concorde metro station. The acoustics were amazing. Many people had gathered to watch and listen, including a woman off to the left who had appointed herself “conductor.” She was in her own dream land imagining she was conducting this fine band of musicians.

Just a moment later, as I stopped to buy more metro tickets, I SET SOMETHING DOWN. Bad move. I had purchased this amazing tunic top thingy at a shop earlier. I was so excited about it I kept peeking in the bag all afternoon to see if it was really in there. That’s exactly the bag I set down when buying my tickets. Two stop later I realized I didn’t have it. WE HAVE TO GET OFF!,  I yelled to my companions. Off we went, turned around, got on the train going the other way, and found our way back to that ticket area. This was no small feat, as we had to exit the station and find where we had entered. (Thess places are one huge maze.) Anyway, I ran in, huffing and puffing, only to find my bag still sitting primly on the counter to the left of the window. People were buying tickets and asking for directions, just as oblivious as you please to the little white bag sitting there. Doesn’t security watch out for stuff like this? It could have been a bomb. But it wasn’t, although I do have to say my new tunic/dress thingy is ‘da bomb!

I was so thankful to recover it, and only wished Debra’s wallet could have  been magically inside the bag.

SHOP – Obviously, we shopped that day. The shops in the area were awesome. We got to go in a famous yarn and notions shop that Debra had read about: La Droguerie. This place was like a giant jewel box inside. There were  colorful hanks of yarn everywhere, jars full of buttons and beads that looked like candy, and everything else that glitters, gleams and adorns hanging or resting on every wall and in every possible spot. I was attempting a little James Bond video, when I was scolded once again.” Madame, pliz poot dat away!” So I did. That didn’t stop me from getting a shot of the outside. Ha! If you are ever in Paris, and you like to knit or sew, pay a visit to this store.

La (Fabulous) Droguerie

Debra loves to knit. While she’s here, I’m calling her Madame De Farge. I think I caught her knitting the initials BLAB into a scarf the other day. I think she’s plotting her own revolution. Blood! Off with Big Large American Bank’s head!

Oh, by the way: We both agreed that Thursday’s theme song was I’m a Loser. Here are the Fab Four, performing it in Paris in 1965.

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