Paris - Day 5

"What's your problem?" the woman asked and left Henry speechless. With that question she caught him off-guard. He looked around hoping to find somebody she could have addressed, somebody who was not him, but he was the only person there. His friends were in the back, talking about a beaver coat, he could still hear their voices. He recalled what the woman had said, perhaps it was a misunderstanding. Sometimes his hearing is not accurate, especially when he's in a foreign country. 

A few days ago Henry came to Paris. He met his friends, one of them knew his way around. Henry once visitied Paris with an old friend called Sabine. She was his best friend's sister and one day, many years ago, they decided to take a weekend trip to France. Back then he had no idea what magical city Paris was. A place where creativity lies in the air, ready to be breathed in by anyone who has a decent use for it. Henry hoped to be one of them. 

Today was the fifth day of his journey through the city. His friend, not the one who knew his way around, was interested in fashion and design. She looked up a few stores she wanted to visit, perhaps hoping to get a little inspiration herself. One of the shops, a well-known brand by a famous designer, played a Christmas song that sounded a little different to what Henry knew. He was the last one to enter through the door and the first one to recognize the voice. It was a voice he hadn't heard for a long time. 

So he thought back a few seconds and tried to remember the exact words the woman had said. He concentrated, much like he concentrated on the music before. He focused the counter where the woman stood. What's your problem? No, no misunderstanding, Henry was sure that these were her words. He looked up and said: "Ah non, il n'y a pas de probleme". He smiled insecurely and quickly added: "It's just the music, I really like it. It sounds like a Christmas carol, but it also sounds like Run DMC". 

The woman now smiled back and said: "C'est vrai, it is Run DMC". Henry nodded and they said nothing for a while. The song ended and he said: "Merci". Now it was the woman's turn to nod. In the back of the store he found his friends. They admired another beaver item, then decided to move on. There was one more store his friends were looking for, but they couldn't find it. Instead they spotted Anna Joliet's Boites à Musique. What a lovely name, Henry thought. And again he was the last one to enter the store.

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Soon all the shops closed and we went to get dinner. On our way we passed one place that was still open. It was one of those stores that sells funny articles for bored people. You know, things like miniature table foosball, a jukebox cd-player or a cheeseburger telephone. Playing with all the gadgets worked up our appetites and we went for a nice pizza place nearby. It was rather expensive, but the food was quite worth it. Well, maybe the food not so much, but the companionship of our trio was worth more than any pizza, pasta or salad in the world.