2004 vs 2011

One thing I swore to myself while dragging my luggage up & down the metro stairs of Paris, was that if I ever came back, I needed to pack lightly.

Picture this: I had a 69 lb suitcase (no lie), a camera bag, a toiletrie bag and my purse. After the 3rd set of metro stairs, I was just tossing my suitcase down the stairs, yelling to the surprised French to "attention!" (watch out) as my oversized, packed way too much suitcase went barreling down the stairs at them.

It did not, however, serve it's purpose either on the RER (train) leaving from Charles De Gaulle airport to the center of Paris. Oh no. My friend who went with me, had no problem hoping off the RER to our stop with her small, carry-on bag. Me on the other hand, tried to push my way past a little old lady who was trying to take my seat. I was trying to get past, she was trying to get through. After screaming, "Ma Sortie" (my exit) to her numerously, she continued to push her 90 lb frame against me. Lucky for me (and it made a hilarous story to this day), a group of Italian men were standing next to the train door and saw my dilema. While my friend stood on the platform outside the train, the bells started to chime indicating the doors would soon close, and I would be stuck on the train with no clue where I'm going. The men yelled out to me if I needed help! "Oui, sil vous plait!" (yes please) I yelled back.

Before I knew it, I was air lifted into the air by several strong hands. The Italian Mafia had lifted me over their heads and was passing me through the crowd. I crowd surfed over the crowd who had gathered by the doors, many were squatting down, trying to avoid getting kicked in the head. I held tight to my suitcase, laying on my belly as I passed over heads, a death grip on my suitcase handle, for at the moment, I was convinced I was going to get mobbed. I haven't had this many hands all over my body since a concert I went to in Fayetteniem, when I decided to jump off the stage and crowd surf. Seconds before the door finally closed, my Italian mafia had thrown me off the train. Thankfully, I landed on my feet, next to my shocked friend. I looked up, as the doors were closing to a sea of surprised faces. Many mouths were open, some people were pulling others off of the floor (my suitcase managed to knock a few out) and everyone on the train plus platform, were silent.

My loud cheer of thanks ring out into the silence, "Merci!" I cried! The train barrelled off, the shock faces became a blur. I looked around the platform, everyone was frozen in place staring at me. To them, I was an American thrown off a train. To me, I was an American who got "assistance" off a train.

My friend looked over at me and with a deep sigh replied, "What a great entrance, Feath".

And it was.

:D