Apres moi, le deluge...

I forget who said the quote from the title of this email (I think it was Napoleon), but in any case, it translates to, "After me, the deluge..." As in, when I'm gone, you people are screwed. Turns out, Europe was a bit better off without Napoleon, arguably. Regardless, the part of the quote that I want to highlight is the deluge part. Paris is litterally SWAMPED with the English.
So, here's a pop quiz: internationally speaking, who are regarded as the most immpolite, the cheapest, the most unruly, and the drunkest tourists? Those of you pointing fingers my way are mistaken. I am not cheap; drunken and unruly, maybe, but impolite? Perish the thought!
The English have decended on this city like the proverbial flies to, um, well.... you know.
Why? What could cause the English to travel the whole two hours it takes to get here, just after summer holidays have ended (in case you dont know, Europeans take August off for 'holiday,' how quaint)? What could be so important that they have abandoned their blood sausage and Guinessessesses for the paultry culinary offerings of gay Pair-ee?
Well, the Rugby World Cup, of course!
Teams from all over the world are playing rugby all over France right now. For my more delicate and tender readers, rugby is the impolite, cheap, unruly, drunken cousin of American football. It is brutal, and I think it is more about bashing a guy's head in, than actually getting the ball across the end zone line. It is the modern equivalent of the the whole Roman "Christians vs. Lions" thing, except in this game, it is more accurate to say that the lions would be armed with AK-47's. It is totally brutal, bloody and inhumane.

I love it!

Tomorrow night I am going to a bar in Paris to watch the first match of the cup: France vs. Argentina. Funny thing- the French are favored to win because they are "so aggressive."
Really? The French? Our French? The French I know from France?
I imagine a football field, with a whole team of angry Argentines charging the French team, who sit on the other end of the filed smoking at little coffee tables, and comparing highlights from last night's after-news porn.
I hope they trounce the Argentines.
They won't.

I was in Montparnasse today (a neighborhood in Paris), and the lines to get into the pubs were almost as long as the lines to get into the AA meeetings down the street. People are really waiting in line to get a pint and watch the game. I mean, the British have driven here, under the channel, for two hours, to come to Parisian approximations of English pubs to watch the game, but when they find that the pub is full, they stand in line for hours- while missing the game I might add- just so they can get in, elbo their way to the bar, pay $20 for a beer and ask what happened. No wonder nothing gets done in these countries.
Why dont you just stay in your own country and watch the game?

In other news, the kitchens at the Hyatt are in total high gear. We had reservations for 250 for breakfast on Tuesday. Thats A LOT. We are also doing a new menu that includes some pretty fancy-shmancy stuff. We are starting to use "airs" which are the conentrated scent of something added to a dish. For example, the chef is experimenting with a puffed tart that would be filled with a parmesan air. When you bite into this two bite tarte, a pocket of air in the middle is released, and that air is heavily scented with the odor of parmesan cheese. Ahhhh, parmesan....
Since taste and smell are so closely linked, you taste parmesan, even though there isnt any in the tarte. I think it is pretty stupid, but it adds an element of the sci-fi to your dining experience, and that's always good.

Since the hotel is so busy, full in fact, all of us interns have had to move to another hotel across the street called Premiere Class. Yeah, sure- Premiere. The bathroom in the rooms is like an airplane bathroom, tiny and claustrophobic. The room itself is also tiny and smells bad. The receptionist also smells bad and doesnt really speak. Not that she doesnt speak English, she just doest speak...... at all. I asked for another towel, and she threw one at me. They should call this place Premiere Ass, but they dont (and thats how they get you). We are here for 14 days. I loath it.

WANG UPDATE: Will has decided he has had enough of, uhhhhh, working, and is toying with the idea of leaving the Hyatt all together. The down side of that is that my roommate after him will undoubtedly have some odd quirk that goes far beyond a mere underwear mobile. The upshot is that my new roommate would have to be my friend Santiago, who is half French, half Argentine, so at the very least I could watch him root for himself during the world cup.

I live for these moments; they're all I have.