When I say Water Closet, that's as in "WC" or toilet. Her apartment inspired a theory as to why it's called a Water Closet. I think her toilet was placed into what was actually at one time a closet. Now I can't speak from experience but I think submarines have larger facilities. You could walk in, close the door, then shuffle your feet to turn around, sit down and face a wrought iron door handle. Once when I happened to be sitting down I noticed my shoelace was coming undone. I reached down, tied it again and when I sat upright my head was impaled on the door handle, to the point where I had a nice little scratch and a bit of blood to show for it. This was a nice room to have, an essential but you could kill yourself if you weren't careful!
  There was one thing I was surprised at though. There were no less than 5 McDonalds within walking distance. In the downtown core of Seattle I can think of 3 at the most. To go half way around the globe to a land so intimately entwined with good food and drink only to find a McDonalds's on every corner, well it wasn't exactly what I was expecting from the French given that they defend their culture to the extent of specifying the legal content allowed on radio and in the cinema. I perfectly understand and hell, I've lived the thrill of finding a McBeer when only 16 years old. I can understand extreme homesickness as an adult justifying a trip to McDonalds but defense of French music and film by the Government… AOK! and a McDonalds on every corner, AOK too!

  One of the more interesting things about the apartment was the electric meter. She was in an area where they were trying a new system where no one was sent a bill. The meter itself had a large LCD that showed how much you had left in your account. When it started to run low we walked 3 blocks to the electric company, she entered her address or meter number into what looked like an ATM and then started feeding it coins. The ATM like machine updated the account information in real time to the meter in her apartment, the heat kept working, we kept cooking and she never got a bill. Pay as you go, an interesting concept to be sure, but here it was in real life.
  That was just too much. I don't travel to a foreign country to eat at Pizza Hut, I go there to live life and eat what jewels I've only tasted and tried at home to get a hint of a dish. When I visit a country then I get the real thing. I guess I could have a real, French, Big Mac but it was one of the few things that made hang my head, it made me sad, it was so bleak.
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