Tuesday. I spent the day in the hostel because of bad weather, which is okay by me, since I love it here and Paris in general. I wanted to print my resume at the hostel, but they only print .pdfs. The hostel management told me the location of an internet place where I can print it, near Abbesses metro. I told them I have already been walking around there and I don’t remember seeing it. They further explained its location. They are so patient with me. They really try to help travelers in every way they can. I wonder if I’ve told them enough how much I appreciate their information and their patience.
I walked around and had to double back; the view of the internet place was obstructed by Christmas kiosks; I had to peer around the kiosks to find it.
You might have to look a little harder for shops and the like during Christmas time. Not that there’s anything wrong with that!
It was a very small place, and people from all age groups were there using computers. The guy in charge told me which computer to use, since most of them were in French. I brought up my resume from my USB stick – I was a little amazed the Fancy Boy Idiots hadn’t erased it – but then the screen froze when I tried to save it after making a small change before I printed it. The guy in charge came over and tried to help me; as soon as he cleared the screen freeze, my resume was gone. He looked for it on my USB stick, in the computer’s trash, on the hard drive….it simply disappeared. If I’m not mistaken, it is possible to infect a document with a virus or a worm (I’m not exactly sure what a worm is) that makes the document disappear upon opening it or trying to save it.
I opened the file containing my resume and–BAM!–it disappeared.
I started to curse under my breath about how much I hate the FBI, and to my utter amazement, people around me smiled and laughed in solidarity: one French woman spoke for all of them, “We don’t have a high opinion of the FBI.” I was stunned, yet I couldn’t help smiling. The French people don’t like the FBI, either: I never would have guessed. One woman gave me her name and phone number and told me I could call her if I thought she could help me. Still, I don’t know that I’ll be able to post resume on leboncoin.fr. to apply for English teaching jobs. Just what the Fancy Boy Idiots wanted.
The hostel’s cappuccino may not be as frothy as this, but as a traveler, I’ve learned to be thankful for what is available.
I went back to Plug-Inn, had a cappuccino (or three!), and worked on recreating my resume. (My Hotmail account is conveniently frozen, or I would be able to print a resume from it.) When I exclaimed how much I love the cappuccino from the machine, the manager told me she wouldn’t drink it, and proceeded to show me a picture of the type of cappuccino she is used to (in Italy, I believe). I smiled in understanding. Then I told her that I’ve learned to enjoy what I have at that moment: Like, if I go camping and have instant coffee, I don’t usually have instant coffee at home, but while camping, outside in the great outdoors, it’s all I have, and I can appreciate that. After our discussion on the fine points of caffeinated drinks, the manager told me she would help me with the application process on leboncoin.fr to apply for English teaching jobs once I get my resume squared away. She is so sweet. She is very business-minded, and I understand why she wants to keep the boundaries very clear between guests and management. Still….her heart, like that of everyone else who works at Plug-Inn Hostel, shows.
Salut !
Image of rainy day in Paris by Can Stock Photo. Image of woman angry with computer by Can Stock Photo. Image of Paris metro at Christmas by David Sifry, Flickr, CCBY 2.0. Image of Vancouver cappuccino by Gord McKenna, Flickr, CCBY 2.0.
