The Day I Caved

Today was a day of ups and downs. I woke up feeling surprisingly better from my feverish state the previous evening and, as my one class of the day had been cancelled, I had quite some hours to kill before visiting the Dali museum in Montmartre. I stretched, watched the first half of Doubt (2008), had breakfast, showered, and researched fun little things to do.

The Dali museum was great. Upon approaching the cashier, I had a deja vu and realized I had been there before with my family quite some years before. The museum was hid in a stereotypical yet adorable little alley with vines growing over the cracked brick walls. We spent an enjoyable hour inside, studying the sketches and sculptures of a messed mind.

Afterwards, we set out to find the famed Rose Bakery as we had heard of its many wonders (think pumpkin scones. . .this kind of thing simply does not exist in Paris). We found it, but as it was a Monday, it was closed. "No worries," we thought, "it's Paris! We'll find a zillion places to eat within five minutes' walk from here." Alas, we were much too optimistic for a Monday in the city. After nearly an hour of walking, we were no closer to finding an open bakery and ten minutes later we started feeling our stomachs turning in discomfort. Well, on we walked until we could no longer take it. It had started to rain. We were waiting to cross an intersection and I reached out to my friend for a hug. Of course at this very moment a car splashed a tide of filthy puddle water all over the lower half of my body.

At this point, we were quite in despair. All of the sudden, a familiar trademark caught my eye, perhaps the most familiar of all. . .Starbucks. I fought the urge, but nothing could stop me now. I went inside the familiar little shop (this one was really miniature) and ordered my comfort drink. I decided not to think too much about the fact that I had just spent in the vicinity of six American dollars on a drink. When the barista handed it to me, I put the delightfully green straw to my mouth and sucked. I am not going to lie when I say that the tiniest bit of shame was completely obscured by a powerful feeling of relief. It was all going to be okay.