Repeated here for your pleasure, the kind of sketchy conversations one has with ferral composers at 2:30 am at Place de Republique:
Sttranger: (french) do you have rolling papers?
Me: (english) he says he wants rolling papers
another drunk composer [adc]: (english) what does he want them for? (hands over papers)
me: porqoui vous demander le papier?
stranger: (french) to roll a joint
me: for a joint
adc: for a cigarette? cigarette?
stranger: (pulls out a pack of cigaretttes offers one to adc who takes it)
adc: why does he want the papers?
me: for marijuana
stranger: oui! marijuana!
adc: i want to smoke mariojuana! does he want to share with us?
me: il voudrais fumer le marijuana avec toi. oh my god, i’m arranging a drug deal.
The stranger is not happy with this idea. I take a short walk away so he and adc can work it out. After some discussion in frenglish, adc stumbles over to where i am waiting.
adc: well, ok, i’m going to see whats up with all this and if he’s for real cuz we’re going to smoke pot.
meanwhile, the stranger has taken advantage of adc turning away and is running down the block away from us.
yet another drunk composer: I don’t think you’re going to get any pot tonight
and now, at 3:30 after being up since 6:30 and having an all-around exciting day which i may tell you about in teh future, i am going to bed.
Tags: Paris, Celesteh
