I would imagine Paris is much like dating a high maintenance chick. Very pretty to look at but sometimes you just want to shout “STOP TALKING.”
The more irritating she gets, the less pretty she becomes.
Paris didn’t look so pretty in February. Real estate agents treated me like some sort of housing leper. I couldn’t buy simple cough sweets without being grilled for 10 minutes on my symptoms. I sat in my pyjamas for days on end eating Prince biscuits. I couldn’t even cry controllably to the Adele CD because the bitch upstairs drowns out everything with her screaming. I went to an Indian restaurant and they served the naan – get this – as a starter. That night I was made to listen to techno.
When the fun barometer dips below 100 and Paris turns ugly, just follow this simple fail-proof rejuvenation plan. Gather a couple of friends, head to Versailles and book a luxury suite at the Waldorf. Get massages, prance around in robes, drink posh cocktails, eat at the Gordon Ramsay restaurant, raid the mini-bar, watch a movie, sleep lots and order room service.
Step and repeat quarterly.
Waldorf Trianon Palace Hotel, 1 Boulevard de la Reine, Versailles
