I had a good day today, I went shopping. Not for normal stuff, mind you. I went shopping for those special things that make a home a home. For instance, for about $7.50 I bought an enormously tacky water pitcher from Morocco that features a naked woman as the handle. To make it even finer, there is a big ass hole on her ass, as if she is going to shit water when you tip the fucker!
I also bought a simple painting of a hard boiled egg for about $4 and paid too much for a little desk calendar, about $30. But I liked the calendar and it was the first thing I saw that I liked.
I went to the flea market in the south edge of Paris (Porte de Vanves). It’s where you walk down the streets and the merchandise gets worse and worse as you go along. By the end of the street, you have people cleaning out their closets and selling broken shoes, spare handbags, underwear, and asstd. detritus. Then, it’s not over, you cross the street and voila, an assortment of bad art, cheaper treasures, and kitchen stuff. I bought the pitcher and painting in the last area.
I then took a bus to another bus and walked about 2 miles to the apartment. What do you think was on the way home? Another flea market! can you believe the luck? I found this old photo of a really, really ugly guy wearing his skivvies in the park. I was going to buy it, but didn’t feel like haggling over it with the junkie selilng the goods. Numbers are difficult to get your head around in French. Ten, twenty, thirty, fourty, fifty, sixty, sixty plus ten, four times twenty, four times twenty plus ten, one hundred… So, here’s the gist of my bargaining.
- Me: “Yo, crack head. how much for this ugly photo”
- Crackhead: “40 cents”
- Me: (thinking he said 4 euros “Uggh, too much. How about 1 euro?”
- Crackhead: “WTF?”
I went to a cafe after the first flea market and had a cafe au lait and croissant for breakfast. the waiter was from Algiers and wanted to see the beautiful water pitcher. I thought he was saying I had mud on my face under my eye. Finally I figured out what he was saying and motioning and he admired it’s beauty and told me of its origin. Frankly, I just assumed it was from Tijuana.