A day in the life of parisian Ruth Ann

So it it is possible that you might have thought to yourself in the course of the last few weeks at some time or another, "Well, I understand that Ruth Ann is in Paris, and there's something about working in an expensive store. But beyond that I'm not really sure." Rest easy, fair reader. I now present, "A day in the life of Parisian Ruth Ann."

Ahem.

I live in a foyer (dorm) with other young women (of all countries, but most either are French or speak French fluently.) I wake up in this room:

I live with two other girls. Both are from l'Ile de la Reunion, a small island off the east coast of Madagascar, which is a French territory. They have an accent that I have trouble understanding at times, plus they say some words differently than standard French, but we get along fine.

This is our bathroom. The shower is even smaller than it looks in the picture. Plus you have to hold the handle of hose, which complicates things even further.

This is our balcony outside our room. I usually eat breakfast out here.


A view of the courtyard.



So I get up early, shower, and then either go work on my homework for the THREE graduate classes I'm doing work for here WHILE working full time (full time for the French is 35 hours, but still..), or I go out in the city and do something early. Then I go to the boutique at either 10 or 11, depending on the day.

Check out the "U" handle for Ungaro. Cool, huh?


I am likely greeted by this creature, who wants me to go get him "une noisette et une tartine" at the cafe next door (a coffee with steamed milk and a slice of baguette with butter on it.)



First I descend down the treacherous spiral staircase into the basement to change into my black outfit.



This is the kitchen in the basement, and also where we change. Yes, the locker with the male model calendar on it is mine, no I did not put it there.



Then I go next door to "Bar des Theatres" to get coffees. I chat with the Portuguese barman, who remembered me from over two years ago and asked how things are going in Alabama.

Then, we are supposed to "faire un tour de la boutique," which means walking around the boutique and making sure that everything is well-folded, that all the price tags are inside the clothes because price tags hanging out are unsightly, and make sure that everything is "bien beepe" (pronounced bee-en bee-pay.) We rarely do this.

We wait for customers to come, which sometimes takes a very long time. We greet them with "Bonjour Madame/ Monsieur/ Mesdames/ Messieurs" according to whoever they are. We follow them at a respectful distance, magically appearing when they look like they have a question or want to try something. We silently clean up the mess of unfolded clothes and tags hanging out that they leave in their wake. We're kind of like faries.

Eventually, it gets to be lunch time. We rotate for our lunch hour, with people leaving in shifts from between 12-2. I go eat with my fellow intern Pauline, at the "cantine" (restaurant/ lunch room for business people in the area) across the street. Here's an example of what your plate might look like:


So cool, right? I get very excited about the cantine. I mean, look at the condiment table:


You mix your own salad dressing right there, and everything! Pauline does not get as excited as I do, because she says that it reminds her of her high school cantine. This does NOT remind me of the Mountain Brook High School lunch room.


Check it out. So you can get this entire meal (appetizer of a little salad, entree of fish and the little potato balls, a dessert of fruit or cake or tarte or whatever, and some bread) for about 5 euros! ($9ish dollars.) OK, so it looks like a lot when you use the abominable current exchange rate, but that's an incredible price for all that in the ritzyest neighborhood in Paris. The REASON it is so inexpensive is not because it's cheaper in the cantine, but because Ungaro gives me a card and they subsidize half of the meal. Thanks, Mr. Ungaro.

To bad the sales tax on all purchases in this country is19.6%.

Anyway, moving on...

Pauline and I return from the cantine and do work stuff or hang out with coworkers and goof off until someone comes in. If we sell something, we bring it in this room and wrap it up in Ungaro tissue paper and stickers and bags and ribbons and everything.

Sometimes, we will have a delivery to make. This is because Madame comes to Ungaro and buys things, but doesn't want to take the bags with her. So we deliver it to her appartment or hotel.

This is the lobby of the Hotel George V, across the street from my foyer. I can't really take pictures while I'm inside delivering the bags (I got this one off the internet.) This hotel is one of my favorites because they employ a full-time florist, so the flowers are spectacular. Yesterday when I went in there, there were dozens of unpotted orchids suspended from the ceiling with their roots hanging down.

This is the Plaza Athenee, the hotel across the street from Ungaro. Britney Spears stayed here last week because she had a concert in Paris. All the windows have these beautiful red/orange flowers in the summer (it is similar to a geranium, but it's not exactly that.)

If the deliveries are for hotels that are farther away or to people's private appartments, Ungaro gives us money and Pauline and I go in a taxi. Last week, we got a 10 euro tip! ($14). I was very excited. It was a Lebanese couple; French people don't tip.

Speaking of tipping, MOST UNFORTUNETLY, Madame Samuels (who some of you may remember from last time,) was supposed to come to the boutique on Tuesday, but at the last minute she canceled her trip to Paris. I was very disappointed, a) because she's a spectacular sight, (see below,) and b) because she gave me a 100 euro tip last time (she's an American.)
Mme Samuels, photographed on vacation in Tunisia.

This was a "care package" we prepared for a very good client who had just had surgery. It included two of our scented candels, perfume samples, the catalogues of the recent collections, and a handwritten note on Ungaro stationery. The note said "With our very best sentiments," but what it meant was, "Get well soon so you can come back and spend money!"

So that's a day at the boutique in summary. After work, I go home at either 6:00 or 7:00 and eat with the other girls from my dorm, and then go out and do something. This past week, I went salsa dancing, went bowling, went to get a drink over by the Bastille, and saw a movie.

Et voila. More to come, but that's all for the moment.