the third time will be the f-ing charm.

one thing that drives me crazy in this city is the copious number of beggars. i can handle the people who do nothing, sleeping on the metro steps with their cats and dogs perched next to them. i can handle the musicians who wander through the metros, staying in your car for too many stops, playing sometimes horrible music (sometimes very good), hoping for a few euro cents (see, this isn't begging - it's working). BUT the beggar i can not handle is...

...the gypsy.

who is the gypsy?

the gypsy is the lady or child dressed in long black clothes who comes up and asks, "do you speak english?" or will stand in the metro station and yell, "does anyone speak english? i need someone who speaks english." AND the gypsy will often set up shop in a touristy area, such as sacre coeur or the eiffel tower, and come up to those people who look western (and by western i mean, american and rich) with a sign (written in perfect english) asking for help because they a) are from some wretchedly impoverished eastern european country, b) have ten children who are back in the slums starving (which is just bullshit, however many little gypsy children mama gypsy has, they are out hustling just like she is), or c) have just a general need for help and food.

let me take a moment here to turn away from the gypsy and turn to the general beggar population in general: i wait with beated breath for the day that i see a beggar with a sign saying, "j'ai soif," (i'm thirsty) rather than, "j'ai faim" (i'm hungry). i think that i would actually give someone money for their habit if they just came out and said they were going to go buy a cheap handle of vodka and get loaded.

back to the gypsy and my general dislike-edness. and to one gypsy in particular.

i had gone to concorde last week to meet up with a girlfriend for lunch. i got off of the metro at concorde, wearing what another friend calls my 'morbid habit,' black from head to toe. sexy black patent leather pumps, opaque black tights, short black sweater dress, black scarf, long black coat, black suede gloves, black bag. i did have bright green glittery hoop earrings in, just to give it that extra kick. apparently this is the outfit for 'rich.' oh, and i had my ipod going, which is just a little accessory for the 'rich.' i got off the metro and was approached by a woman. said woman DID NOT appear to be a gypsy. she asked if i spoke english. i just kind of starred at her, trying to figure out what she wanted. then she asked if i spoke french. i honestly thought that she was going to ask me for directions. i said, 'english,' giving her the benefit of the doubt. she then replied with a smile, 'i need money.' i could not have turned around and strutted off faster.

i wonder what it feels like to have so many people just walk past you, not giving you the time of day.

oh wait, i tried to sell books door-to-door. that was my experience being a beggar. IT SUCKS.

ok, so last week was incident number one with said gypsy woman.

i took a long stroll today. i started off at home, wandered towards republique via rue du faubourg de temple, and then took rue de temple to hotel de ville. it was a lovely sunny day, and i opted to be in transit above ground, using my legs, rather than taking the grungy metro. i wandered on the right bank of the seine, taking it all in, enjoying the view. once i had gotten past the louvre and to concorde, i crossed over and found the metro. my legs were getting tired and i really was desiring a nap. down to the concorde station i went. i searched for the 8 line. i whipped around a corner. i was on a mission. then i heard, 'do you speak english?' and saw the same beggar lady up in my face. there was a moment, just a split-second where i could see in her eyes that she knew she had asked me before, and that she knew better than to ask me twice.

she better know better than to ask me a third time. here is what will happen if she does...

"do you speak english?"

"yes."

"i need money."

"GET A FUCKING JOB AND STOP ASKING ME FOR MONEY!"

i actually kind of hope the third time occurs. maybe i will say, "CHERCHER UN PUTAIN DE TRAVAIL ET ARRETE ME DEMANDER POUR L'ARGENT!" which is the same sentiment in french. perhaps i will add, 'salope,' to the french version. 'bitch.'

hahaha je suis such a salope.