The Intolerable Mrs. Jones

Post date: Jan 28, 2015 6:22:13 PM

I have a few close friends whose friendship transcends time and space. That’s a little trippy, but here’s what I mean.

We will be friends forever, no matter where we are and how often we talk. I’m a very lucky girl.

Natalie is one such friend and I’ve had the distinct pleasure of having her in my life for a long time now.

During college she took a semester to study in Paris. Although this sentiment is contrary to popular opinion, let me just say this… I really don’t like Paris.

It’s not just that the Parisians are rude (they are) or that the city is snooty (it is). But it’s a city that it is difficult to enjoy as a tourist.

Hemmingway famously said, “If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast.”

I’m still hungry.

But on this rare occasion, I visited Natalie in Paris for a week… and her mother was there.

I can only describe this woman as “The Intolerable Mrs Jones”. She was determined to be unhappy, and equally determined to make everyone around her work really hard to make her happy.

Luckily my friend Nathan (see London Calling) was still living in London and had never seen Paris. So he came and joined me. While is is infinitely less romantic to see Paris with a gay man, it is still loads of fun.

The first day we went out I was looking stunning. Nice blazer, cute little jean mini skirt, black leggings and matching boots underneath, it was a good look for me. However, I started to notice I was getting quite a few looks of genuine distain from the locals. At first just a few people, then more and more. I finally mentioned it to Nathan, who promptly told me it was all in my head. Less than a minute later he recanted. We decided it must be my skirt, and set off to find a better one.

In a lovely little Parisian boutique we found a better one. However when I put it on it was a bit tight. We asked if they had a slightly larger size, to which the sales lady replied "I'm sorry. We simply do not carry clothes large enough for your... enormous body." Did I mention I don't like Paris?

The last night I finally got a chance to spend time with Natalie, as The Intolerable Mrs Jones and finally left to return stateside and make other people miserable (Thankfully). So we went out with her friends. I have often been referred to as the patron saint of booze… and that night was no exception. I bought the first two rounds and the night went downhill from there.

I vaguely remember the next morning, as I stumbled onto the plane. But luckily I have pictures to serve in the place of memories.