We had a nice dinner out in the sunshine. We were in an outdoor cafe and enjoyed good wine, good food, and good conversation. We took the metro home and the metro police were waiting for us at our exit. They periodically wait to check for tickets to ensure everyone can produce one to prove they didn't jump the turnstile.
Anyone who knows me knows I'm not a turnstile jumper. I'm a rule follower. So there I am in my skirt and heels and I'm digging through my purse trying to find my ticket. I produce three, but the officials blocking the exit claim they're all old. Difficult to believe given I clean my purse out every night. I keep digging. I go through papers. The officials are ready to pounce on me. Randy is arguing with them. They are telling me I owe 25 euros. The metro ticket I used was 1.10 euros. Twenty-five euros! I screamed back that there was no way I was going to pay 25 euros. Between the two of us, it was quite a scene. A nice teenager came up to me and said it was useless, that they would never back down. I know one of those three used tickets was the good ticket, but they wouldn't believe me. I threw a 20 and a 5 at them and stormed off. They wanted me to come back for my frickin' receipt. I am so angry right now I can barely breathe. I HATE PARIS!!!!