A funny thing happened on the way to the metro

I've noticed I bitch a lot on this blog. I mean, we're talking a sizable amount here. And I've realized that I really don't have a reason to bitch, so I've decided to try to stop complaining so much. I took an objective look at things and came up with a full list of things that really should void my bitching possibilities: I live in Paris; I live in a nice neighborhood in a decent apartment of which many people are jealous; I'm going to grad school at one of the most well-renowned universities in the world; I have food on my table, clothes on my back, and many pairs of shoes on my feet. I've pretty much got my bases covered, and for as much as I love bitching about all the hypocrisy and inconsistency Paris has to offer, it really is a phenomenal city, full of little bits of happiness and rainbows around every corner. Ok, well, maybe not every corner - I'm not that optimistic, and I never said anything about losing the cynicism. But anyways, life in Paris is kind of like Space Mountain, if you'll excuse the cheap simile. It's fast and full of twists and turns, some of which are fun and some which seem to break your ribs, and the best part is that you really don't know where any of it's going to take you.

I don't really have anything to expand on that, but I just wanted to write about one of those little jolts that brought so much pleasure into my life last night. We were walking to Nation (metro stop), and as we approached the corner with the condom dispenser on the wall, we noticed a van stopped in front of it. A guy in a denim jacket and grey sweatshirt jumped out of the passenger side and jogged to the dispenser, then fished some money out of his pocket and put it in the machine as we walked by. Now, there are a lot of condom dispensers in Paris. They're in almost every metro station and in bathrooms just like they are in the U.S., and I know people must use them and I'm glad they do. I've just never seen someone actually use one. Yeah, it's not a big deal. It wasn't some life-changing experience that'll win me a Pulitzer. I'm not going to go and write the Great American Novel because I saw some guy buy a rubber on a street corner. But it was just so... odd. We all had the urge to yell back at him, "have a good time!" or "good screwing!" much like you would say "bon appetit" to anyone eating a sandwich or crepe on the street. But of course, that would be rude. But based on the French principles of personal space and the fact that buying a condom on the street is an act in public, therefore for everyone to see, I really don't see a problem with it. In fact, I bet that if we'd said it, he would have laughed. I don't know, I just think it's weird. The dispensers are there for everyone to see, but I somehow imagine that anyone that uses them waits until everyone's gone until they put drop their cash in. Don't you think it's kind of bizarre to buy a condom on the street? Or to see someone doing it? Go to the market, you can get a whole lot more than one or three. But then again, buying a whole box would mean you knew it would happen more than once, and I guess if you have to stop on the street and jump out of a car and leave it running to get a condom, you don't really have the time to do it more than once or three times anyways.

On the subject of contradiction, though, I forgot to add this one little quote into that whole long rant. It's from I, Lucifer, which is a pretty good book about the Devil's last chance at redemption, which, inevitably, they're making into a movie. Anyways, this is what Lucifer has to say about France: "France is the flower of civilization, and also the home of revolution which will lop off the head of that flower." Just something to mull over while I go experience the city a bit more and hopefully have some more interesting things to talk about, because I don't know about you, but I'm getting a little tired of me trying to make a mile of bullshit out of an inch of life.