After living in France for 3 years, I started to assume that I had gotten the hang of Parisian life. I know the metro like the back of my hand, I know to watch for dog crap when I walk, and I’ve been yelled at enough times for doing things “wrong” to have learned how to be less “obvious” about being American.
But last night Paris surprised me again. Coming back from a dinner at my friend Ieva’s, I decided to take the bus. I pressed the red “stop” button when I was ready to get off and, per usual, the bus driver stopped…
Buttttt… He didn’t open the door!!
I was frantic. I mean DUDE THIS IS MY STOP! I was yelling at him to open the door. PLEASE open the door. I need to get off the bus.
But he wouldn’t budge. Luckily, a lady outside the bus banged on the door and he decided to open it.
The lady was nice enough to explain to me that on extra-large busses (like the one I was on), you have to hit a second yellow button near the door to indicate which part of the bus you are exiting from.
Well for goodness sake. 3 years and I am just now discovering the yellow button. I guess it’s as they say: you’re never finished learning.