Thursday, March 24, 2005

The Eight: Corniest line in Paris

My fascination with the different metro lines in Paris nearly rivals my obsession with 60’s glam Communist propaganda. Particularly the “Red Detachment of Women” ballet orchestrated by Mao’s wife. Damn the consequences, as long as there’s some glam involved. Deportation to a Siberian work camp? Who cares when those Soviet propaganda posters feature such rosy-cheeked, scythe-slinging workers with names like Ilya and Ivan? It’s always the packaging that counts.

That’s what I was thinking when the Eight screeched to a halt in the middle of a tunnel between stations last night as I was on my way to a dinner party. “Please God, if I die in a horrible metro accident or terrorist attack, let it not be on the Eight.” The Eight is the metro line with the least personality. It’s slow, it serves unglamorous neighborhoods, it’s represented by a non-descript purplish color on the RATP metro maps, and its upholstery is a mysterious “psychologically calming” blue.

Poison gas attack, dirty bomb, hostage crisis, subterranean shootout – I’m willing to die a bloody death in any of these events. Just let it be on a cool metro line.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

If you looked like you do in your photo you should never be caught dead on that line.

Most lines have the odd musical busker but it was on the 8 that I got stuck (since it's slow) hearing the bad poet yelling his opus out - interminable - painful - to this day.

11:55 PM, March 28, 2005  
Blogger Emily said...

Hm... Interesting... anonymous... are you hitting on Nicolas?! I mean, he is a good-looking guy, I can't blame you. But you should at least leave your name and number. Maybe he'll call you.

12:09 PM, March 29, 2005  
Anonymous Nicolas said...

Riding the 8 is right up there with filing tax returns on my list of pleasurable activities. Alas, not always to be avoided. Sometimes I just walk.

7:22 PM, March 29, 2005  

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