Rudeness. See that got your attention, didn’t it? The famous French rudeness, brusqueness, treated you like dirt, eh?
It seems that it’s impossible for websites or conversations about Americans visiting France to go on for more than a few hours before the old rudeness issue rears its nasty head.
I was thinking about this last week as Colette and I were eating at Neva Cuisine (which has become Colette’s new best favorite choice - to be a bit redundant).
- When I had called to reserve they were so nice,
- When we entered the pastry and first course chef warmly greeted us,
- When the waiters came over with water, wine or menus or to take the orders, they were nice
- In fact, the whole meal was such a pleasant experience, it made the food sing even more brightly than if it had been equally superbly sourced, cooked and presented but through the windows of the old Automat.
And then we got on the Metro.
- People crowded the door as if they were goalies guarding the net,
- No one made room for new passengers to seek out the unoccupied space a few inches away from the doors,
- The adolescents and young adults acting like adolescents couldn’t take their eyes off their smartphones or ears off their iPods or feet off the seats ahead,
- And one might as well have been traveling on an alien spacecraft, the isolation of each seated passenger was so rigidly held.
That’s rudeness, and worse, like automobile drivers making a left turn while talking on a cell phone in one hand while smoking with the other, I suspect they were oblivious to the world around them, so wrapped up in the LED screen in front of them were they. Scary, weird and enough to make you fear for the future of verbal and visual communication.
The restaurant referred to is:
Neva Cuisine
It seems that it’s impossible for websites or conversations about Americans visiting France to go on for more than a few hours before the old rudeness issue rears its nasty head.
I was thinking about this last week as Colette and I were eating at Neva Cuisine (which has become Colette’s new best favorite choice - to be a bit redundant).
- When I had called to reserve they were so nice,
- When we entered the pastry and first course chef warmly greeted us,
- When the waiters came over with water, wine or menus or to take the orders, they were nice
- In fact, the whole meal was such a pleasant experience, it made the food sing even more brightly than if it had been equally superbly sourced, cooked and presented but through the windows of the old Automat.
And then we got on the Metro.
- People crowded the door as if they were goalies guarding the net,
- No one made room for new passengers to seek out the unoccupied space a few inches away from the doors,
- The adolescents and young adults acting like adolescents couldn’t take their eyes off their smartphones or ears off their iPods or feet off the seats ahead,
- And one might as well have been traveling on an alien spacecraft, the isolation of each seated passenger was so rigidly held.
That’s rudeness, and worse, like automobile drivers making a left turn while talking on a cell phone in one hand while smoking with the other, I suspect they were oblivious to the world around them, so wrapped up in the LED screen in front of them were they. Scary, weird and enough to make you fear for the future of verbal and visual communication.
The restaurant referred to is:
Neva Cuisine
2 Rue de Berne in the 8th (Metro: Europe)
T: 01.45.22.18.91
Closed Saturday lunch and Sundays
Lunch menu, 29.50 for 2, 36 E for three courses, a la carte considerably more.
T: 01.45.22.18.91
Closed Saturday lunch and Sundays
Lunch menu, 29.50 for 2, 36 E for three courses, a la carte considerably more.
That's why I never take the metro after a restaurant meal. Bus, taxi, walk, yes, but a metro experience destroys all the post-resto good vibes.
And it's always so lovely to take a walk in Paris (especially after a gut-buster).
Posted by: Parigi | January 24, 2012 at 05:45 PM
Yes! to Parigi's response. Simply put, we do not take the metro unless there is literally no reasonably convenient bus route available. As a lovely, Parisian art dealer told us some time ago, "A different sort of people use the bus." Period.
Posted by: Margaret Pilgrim | January 25, 2012 at 03:57 AM