Now I understand that cultural differences will create stress and tension while travelling. I know that the things I love about Paris will be tempered with some petty annoyances. But my American sensibilities really get riled at the insensitive, unnecessary physical contact that goes on.
Let's just put it out there, shall we?
People touch my kids way, way too damned much.
When they're being cute, strangers pat their heads. When we're in lines, the girls get brushed against gently, but persistently. When we're in truly crowded spaces, my wonderful offspring get shoved. I've come to observe these acts as an Amateur Anthropologist of Annoyances, of sorts.
Case Study A: Two weeks ago, Olivia got a full-on hand push on the middle of her back from a tourist trying to get to a great photo op spot near the Venus de Milo.
Case Study B: Last week, a guy actually pushed past us to corkscrew his way onto a crowded Metro train as the beeper was sounding.
Case Study C: Yesterday, I felt the "butt brush" (it's a term I read about on a retail marketing website) of a woman passing me in a Metro hallway. I then realized she was using her purse as a brush guard of sorts as she shoved it against Bryan's elbow, Helena's head and then arm of the elderly gentleman using the stairs in front of us. I'm glad she didn't go for the inside passage on our right, she'd have sweeped Bryan's injured elbow and knocked the cane out from under old Jacques!
The irony of this is: there was at least five feet of clearance on the stairs next to us. It was entirely unnecessary for her to touch any of us. She could have stepped 9 inches to her left and avoided soiling my clothes, my kid and my mood! But there's a Parisian "I'm always right" going on here.
Yesterday, in front of us at a Metro ticket scanner, a woman tried to use an expired ticket. When it didn't work, she jumped in behind Bryan as he scanned his monthly pass then pushed through the turnstyle with him. I haven't been that physically close to his back pockets in public in YEARS! She started yapping in French, not accusingly, but in a "my pass didn't work, so you should let me do this" manner. Hey! Paws off the married man, his wife's territorial, Frenchy!
Anyway, it's something to learn to laugh over, I suppose. I don't mind a little excess contact, but the shoving my kids part gets me riled. I've often said the most dangerous person on the street isn't the scary guy with the weapon, it's the mom pushing a stroller. Because, honestly, anybody with a gun, knife or pointy comb is gonna have to go through me to get to my kids. I'll stand up against any 400 pound ax-murderer if he's trying to come between me and my bébés!
So hooray for me, to Hell with you! I guess.
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