"Sweetheart, it's time for our annual trip to Paris"; I announced.
"Yaaaas!", he said.
We secured the Eurostar and the hotel; packed our bags and off we went.
Being an anal kind of person, I always make sure that my train seats are facing the direction of travel and have a window next to them in case I feel like admiring French countryside mid snooze. This time was no different.
There was a French girl sitting belligerently on my reserved seat.
"This can't be."; I thought.
I double checked the tickets, but there was no mistaking it. A French bottom was nonchalantly perched on MY seat.
Inside me I was all like "Move bitch, get out the way, get out the way bitch, get out the way. " , but what I actually said was more akin to: "Excuse me, please. Sorry. Did I say sorry yet? Sorry. Awfully sorry to disturb you, but if you wouldn't mind terribly, this appears to be my reserved seat. Sorry, sorry, sorry, a million times sorry."
God, I have lived on this soggy island called Britain for far too long.
The Frenchie looked at me with disdain and said in that blase way only the French can muster: "Ah, yeah...THIS is my seat"; (she pointed at the seat at the front); "But it has no window. I don't like it."
"Well, tough titty, biatch. These are the seats I paid for. They're MINE. I want them."....Only..., I didn't actually say that. Instead, I apologized profusely a few more times until the Frenchie finally moved. As she was moving to her windowless seat she rolled her eyes a few times to demonstrate how displeased she was.
I didn't care. I was finally in MY seat rolling towards Paris.