I literally just got home. But the backstory on this late night encounter is that I grabed one of the free newspapers for the metro ride home and then roled it up and shoved it in my boot. You could only see about the top inch of it, so most people would not notice it at all.
I am finally at my apartment's front gate and I'm typing in the pass code. It doesn't work. I'm a milisecond away from typing it in again and a 20 something guy comes up to me and says:
"lkjwljrlkwjelkjerw le journal?"
me: "Oui?" I take it out of my boot and I give it to him.
him: "Merci, madame, bon soirée."
Then I go upstairs. and that is where I am now. I don't know what happened. I love Paris. I keep having to fall in love with it again and again because for some reason I keep forgetting how wonderful it is. Things like this make me remember.
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