Nothing I like more than bitching about than tourists.  They are literally the only reason people try to pick pocket me on the métro on my way to and from work.

I hate them with a passion, more so when they literally block me from getting on my train (and obviously as a result, miss it) because they’re too thick to read.

Hey Betty, this train goes to Ver-Sale-as? I don’t know Jim, let’s stand in front of the doors and block everybody until we figure it out !

One of the tragedies of living in the 6ème is that you are literally never far enough from the stupidest of all the tourist, because my work is based on a line that shares routes to places like Versailles, I tend to get completely destroyed by the sheer stupidity these people seem to muster at 8h/9h, usually at Invalides.

It starts out in ligne 13, where personal space is just not happening.  The stench of humanity literally boiling and you’ve got the feeling of some fingers slipping in to your pockets.  Do they hit the obvious french people ?  No, because blonde hair probably means lots of cash on hand !  I find these moments are usually stopped with a swift few words, such as « fils de pute, nique ta sale mère » or my personal favourite « j’ai acheté ce portable de merde chez E.Leclerc putain !« .

But on the days I’m lucky enough to not have my meagre earnings picked at, there are always the complete assholes, their 15 kids and 20 million bags trying to ram themselves on to ligne 13 at the only two hour window anybody actually needs to be on that shit show.  And they are always speaking English, loudly.

If you see shit like this and think « hey it’d be really cool to go see the Eiffel Tower right now because I literally have all day to do it ! » you’re a total idiot et niktamère.

Truely, this is why French people hate anglophones (well that and basically every little scuffle between England through out history #100yearwar), let’s be real kids, if France went on « vacay » to every city in the US and really fucked with your commute, I’d bet you’d actually start hating France (other than for that Freedom Fries thing and being France).
Then we get to the RER C, if you thought ligne 13 was the spectacle, you’re wrong, it’s the fucking pre-show.  When your métro has been sat in a tunnel for no reason and you literally have to run a marathon to get to your train, because SNCF in their wisdom decided your train should be 3 minutes earlier than scheduled, you find literally EVERY gate blocked by morons going to pay 25€ to see some fucking gardens with music and pay 10€ for frites in a highly overpriced construction site.

I know the whole barrier thing can be difficult, but basic lesson here, YOU NEED SOME KIND OF PAID MAGIC TO GET IN.  Ticket+, Navigo Semaine, your feet launching you over it, ON S’EN FOUS, DEGAGE SALOPE !  The RATP will be grudgingly help your sorry ass if you ask, I will happily launch you over the fucking thing in to the departure board, so chose your assistance wisely.

For those who pass the first test, there is of course the standard « let’s stop right here and take a selfie, we’re so parisien ! » right after the gate, as if the flow of people magically stops when you pull out your god forsaken selfie stick.


This dipshittery usually continues through out the station, blocking stairways, train doors, entire platforms, etc. making one’s already peaceful transition to the 92, that more peaceful.

I understand Paris or France ain’t easy to figure out, probably less so when you just scream English words at French people « so they understand » because you really haven’t bothered buying a book of phrases for 10$ just after you spaffed 5.000$ on flights and an Ibis Budget.  But really, whether or not you speak the language, in what serious head trauma, does anybody genuinely think it’s peak moment to explore the transit system a city of 2 million people between 8h-10h Monday to Friday?

It’s nicer to walk and see Paris, than succumb to the horror that is any métro, bus or transilien line at peak hours.  Because we all ain’t doing it for the LOLZ.

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