Our double entry into Paris

Jess forgot that there was a time change and kept saying, "Yeah, it's a three hour flight." and I'm like, it can't be, it' s not that far.

So, we barely got up and they're saying it's another half hour til landing; Sweet - well not really.

The plane stats heading down and we touch down no problem. I'm thinking a little fast but what the hell do I know, I never flown a plane. The pilot then starts speeding up. Real fast, then, we're in the air again. Everyone is like"Oh shit!", well at least that's what I'm saying they said because there were a bunch of different languages going on and I don't know how to spell shrieks in other languages.

The stewardess gets on the speaker and announces that this is normal procedure. I agree. Especially if you're landing at the wrong fucking airport! I don't think that was the case since we shot up, circled and tried it again within about 10 minutes - but something fishy was up. We landed ok, a little fast, but what do I know? I know we fucking landed twice in Paris.

Remarkably, this was not the scariest part of the evening. We get the train to Paris, navigate through the subway and get to our hostel. The room is small, real small. Eventually get some food - despite some veggie issues. Jess showers and I unwind. She comes back giggling and says "I don't know if you're going to get in the shower. It's REALLY small. And it's one of those push button ones."

I'm already annoyed. Why the push buitton? Are you really saving that much money? I take the death march thorough the courtyard (it's really an alley but we're in Paris and it should sound quaint and romantic) and open the door to the shower.

Holy shit! I know for sure that was said because I said it. I get in and try to figure out how I am going to get undressed. Picture just a shower stall - you're facing it and there's a sink on your left. Right on your left about an inch into your hip.

I start pressing the button and of course it needs to warm up. I shut the door. The water shuts off.

I open the door and press the button. Close the door and the water shuts off.

This goes on for about 5 minutes.

I start pressing the button like a motherfucker like 20 times. It's getting slightly warm so I hop in. OK not too bad except that I can't get my whole body wet. The water is getting cold so I start pressing the button. It's working. Well, if all I wanted was for the water to stay on it's working but it's still cold. I say fuck it and start soaping up only as I get to my legs and undersides of my arms the soap comes to a halt because those part of my body aren't wet. This son-of-a-bitch next to be should be reading this since he's obviously not acquainted with the shower or soap. I get soaped up but it's hard getting the soap off everything and everywhere. This shower is real Spartan. Totally minimalist. It would probably be less painful to have two actual Spartans hose me off in the alley, I mean courtyard.

I get out and try to figure out the best way to dry off and realize my junk is hanging into the sink. If MINE is, that means hundreds of others have and that's really gross, especially these stinky bastards here. I dry as best I can, throw on my new Liverpool pajamas (I brought nothing with me to go back and forth to the bathrooms in, I'm not a queer), head back through the courtyard, which must really suck in winter and hit the sack.