A Fashionable Assault

I had the most wonderful Parisian weekend. My sister, Kim, came to visit! It was a short but very sweet trip and so amazing to have a little piece of home with me here in Paris. I have to admit that she is an absolutely terrible influence when it comes to all things food and shopping, but we were able to justify our caloric intake and credit card damage by walking a lot and hoping that I will have a job again someday. Each and every purchase was very worth it! Plus we made a pact that we will return to Paris together annually to stock up on Parisian goodies. Who’s coming with us?!?!

So I am convinced that I am one of those people that just attracts total crazies and unnecessary drama. You really can’t write this stuff and yet I am going to. I had quite a traumatic experience the other day. I was innocently walking home from the metro and all of the sudden this homeless man, with dog in tow, starts screaming at me that I bumped into him. He makes a total scene. He starts shouting a lot of four letter words and calls me a “rude American” over and over again. I am like wide eyed in shock and hesitate not sure what to do, but then keep walking. He is obviously drunk and in desperate need of a good scrubbing. I would have felt sorry for him if he weren’t for what happened next. He proceeded to follow me down the street, and when I stopped at the traffic light, he PUNCHED me in the back of the head. OH MY GOD! Did that really just happen??!?! WTF!??! And to top it all off, the bastard, after calling ME “rude”, SPIT S ON MY PRETTY LONGCHAMP BAG!!! Dude, it is one thing to assault my head. It is another thing to assault my handbag. I believe that this was the moment when the four letter words started to fly out of my mouth including a threat to have him arrested. But seriously who am I kidding; I am sure he would have loved to spend the night in a cozy prison cell. It would have been an upgrade. The most baffling part to me about this entire situation is that NOT ONE person on the busy street stopped to ask if I was ok. Not one. I can look back and laugh at the situation now, but at the time I was really shaken up. I’d hate for this incident to cast a cloud over my experience, but it has definitely made me appreciate the security that I feel at home. More than anything, it made me feel very vulnerable, alone, and helpless. I am fine now and still loving Paris and my experience here. I treated myself to a box of Parisian cookies as a reward for surviving the attack.

My fiancé, Dan, arrives tomorrow morning and we are heading to Spain for a week. I cannot wait to see him... and desperately hope that he is able to get through security with my jar of peanut butter!