The Padded Toilet

Being back in the Marais was like coming home. I love arriving in a place, have my bearings & am ready to explore.

Having Kitty (our Irish friend with the bronzer - see earlier post) with us for the weekend was an added bonus as we hadn't seen her for over a year.  Admittedly we got off to a rocky start as within minutes we'd damaged her lady bits, banged up her right knee & bruised both inner arms...possibly an all time record as we hadn't even left the airport (that airport shuttle has a lot to answer for). She's a little trooper though & just rolled with it rather than catching the next flight out of there.  Tres bien petite mademoiselle.

Our apartment was absolutely gorgeous & has set the bar for future holidays.  Kitty was happy to bunk down on the sofa bed in the lounge which meant her & I shared a bathroom & toilet.  The toilet was a cute little room with a curtain behind the toilet to hide a storage space and the inside of the door was covered in a lovely padded fabric...unusual but very Florence Broadhurst. 

All was going well until Kitty headed to the toilet but made a hasty exit in under 2 seconds saying "I don't like it in there as I think some arms are going to come out from behind the curtain & wrap around me when I sit on the toilet".  I raised my eyebrows and thought she was jet lagged from the looooong flight from Dublin (1hr 15min poor love).  "Haven't you thought of that?" she asked.  To which I replied "WelI I hadn't but I suspect I will now!".  From that point on I had to stand guard every time she had to go.  Fabulous.  I could have killed her as every time I went it was all I could think about to the point where these arms took on a whole persona & became like something out of a horror flick. 

In our minds our roomie was a webbed finger dwarf named Colin who had rather a shady past.  The details were a little sketchy but a few years earlier he'd apparently been forced to flee the circus.  The word on the street was it had something to do with an affair with The Amazing Rosa the tightrope walker who was seeing The Ringmaster at the time...not ideal as I think the latter is in charge of the lions.  One word from The Ringmaster & poor Colin would have been gobbled up quicker than I could down a pain au Chocolat.  

To be honest carnie folk scare me, but Colin was OK.  He certainly didn't bother us, never went the grope in the padded toilet for which I'm very grateful, & just became part of our Marais memory. The only time he may have overstepped the mark was one night when Aggie & I were sitting on our terrace & heard the clatter of cutlery.  We both looked at each other & nodded...yep Colin had decided to have dinner in Aggie's room...cheeky.

Au revoir Kitty & safe travels back to Ireland. x