Faire la queue...encore

"Faire la queue" is a French expression that is used all the time for some of my favorite things. For instance, when I describe the Victor Hugo reading from Thursday night in French, I say: "On a fait la queue pendant une heure !!" (we waited in line for an hour!!) The one thing French people know about Berthillon is that "il faut faire la queue" (you need to wait in line), which is a major deterrent for them. Waiting in line is for tourists, or students who want free tickets, or seeing new exhibitions at a museum. It's not for ice cream, for dinner, for things you could do elsewhere without waiting in line.

Well, last night, Mélanie found a free party at the Opéra Garnier (where The Phantom of the Opera takes place), and we all signed up on line and when we got there, we had to "faire la queue." Finally, we got to the front of the line, and one of Mélanie's friends realized she didn't have her ID. She had her Navigo card for the métro, but nothing else. When we presented the lady at the entrance with our pièces d'identité, she said: "Sorry, we're not in the métro." Mélanie asked very politely if there was anything we could do—that her friend was indeed 18 (the drinking age in France...indeed, her friend was 24), that we were on the list, because we had already signed up online. The lady then looked at Mélanie's shoes and informed her that she wasn't wearing heels. Ombelline (another of Mélanie's friends) and I bought said that we were wearing heels, but mine were wedges, and that's différent. Anyway, we could see that the lady was not going to let us in. Mélanie directed her attention to the man next to her, and asked him why we couldn't get in when we were on the list, and he said that this insane yet well-dressed woman with the riding crop made the decisions, and then they checked the list. 

Well, French people are nothing if not good complainers! Mélanie and her friends went crazy, started insulting the lady furiously as we walked away, saying some of my favorite French expressions, like "ça m'énerve !" or "elle est chiante !" (that really pisses me off, or she's so annoying!) I said it really wasn't that big of a deal, that this free party wasn't even in the Opéra, but as we had just seen, was on the terrace right next to it outside of the restaurant, that you get what you pay for. They asked how I could possibly still like France after this. I really didn't understand why they were so upset as we walked through some of the most beautiful sections of the city on the way to plan B—the Australian bar (Café Oz). 

I guess the French don't deal well with rejection or disappointment. Probably something they should get used to. Clearly none of them have ever opened a bank account in this country. Anyway, here is a lovely picture of the Opéra Garnier at sundown, which as far as I'm concerned, was worth the price of admission (aka nothing: it was a free party).