We had French class this morning. Since the building that we usually meet in has been closed this week we've had to find other places to meet. Tuesday we met in a little cafe' near the school, but it was awkward and quite noisey. So one of the gals invited us to meet at her home. It was a bit more intimate than the classroom we usually meet in. She had tea, coffee and juice, and a great little cake. And she lives in a traditional apartment on the ground floor of an old building. There aren't very many opportunities to see the insides of private apartments in Paris and it's always fun to get a peek. And literally, right outside her door...........
So when I left class, I took advantage of being in that area and walked up the Champ des Mars, to get a better view..........
From there I walked to Rue Cler, since one of my friends at class told me it was a great pedestrian street, and then up to St-Germaine-des-Pres. It was a long walk, and since I had eaten only had one very slender slice of cake, I was hungry, cold, and tired. So I skipped down into the metro to take the easy way home.
And I'm getting quite adept at the metro. From St Germain I have to transfer at a major transfer station called Chatelet. Not a big deal, I've done it many times. But this time...........in the process of the transfer I came upon the metro police checking that tickets had been validated. I didn't think this would be a big deal, because I always keep my validated ticket in my pocket, just in case.
There were seven police, checking people at random, and they checked me. I immediately pulled my validated ticket from my pocket thinking "no big deal", but apparently it was. The policewoman (I think I would have fared better if it had been a man) asked me to show her something. I didn't have a clue what she wanted so I pulled out my driver's license (I rarely carry my passport) and she took it and kept talking. So what had happened was......
Last Saturday when Rick and I were on our way to Pounette's for dejeuner, I purchased a carnet (bundle of ten tickets) for the metro/bus. When I pushed the boutton, I received twenty tickets instead of ten. I thought I had really scored, but it turns out that I had purchased childrens' tickets, which must be half price. And I've been using them ever since then, until today.
I tried to play ignorant, but she wasn't buying it. She pulled out her ticket book and told me I had to pay 25 Euros. I told her to give me my driver's license back, which she did and told her to keep the childrens' tickets. She gave them back to me and told me to keep the tickets because maybe I could exchange them. Then she handed me a special green ticket that she said was good for the entire day. Great! I had three stops to go and I would be home, with no plans to get back on the metro.
So when I got back to Bastille, I marched to the person behind the glass and said, en francais, after the obligatory "Bonjour Madame", that I had purchased childrens' tickets by mistake and I wanted to make an exchange. She, no big surprise, said it was impossible, but she left her desk and went to a file cabinet and I was hoping that maybe................but no! She brought back a form and told me to fill in my name and address and mail it to RATP Service des remboursements (you don't have to know French to know that that means). The problem is that the key to my letter box doesn't work (still, Helene!), so there's no reason to pursue this. And to be perfectly honest, I had made 10 trips on the childrens' tickets, which is what I'd paid for in the first place.
But I still have the 25 Euro ticket and it's not too late to take a long metro ride, just to get my money's worth. But that may interfere with my Thanksgiving dinner.
Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!
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