Freeing Sylvain

As I feared, freeing Sylvain from the broken lock was no mean feat. How could it have been? It is logically impossible for anything to be easy in this country. Obviously.

I managed to borrow some small but strong wire cutters from a friend yesterday, so I arrived at the pool a few minutes before 7 to test them out. It was immediately clear that they weren't going to do the trick, though. So I went and swam my laps, then when I came out I asked the girl at the front desk if they might have some stronger lock cutters. She was super nice and called the technician, who was also really nice and brought me what he had, which was just a bit stronger than the pair I had. No luck.

It was at this point that I ran yet again into an interesting cultural difference, I think, that I've seen before in other contexts. The building manager was there when I returned the wire cutters, so he asked what the problem was. I explain about the bike, and he was like, "why don't you just take the metro home?" haha. I was like, "yeah, but that won't solve my problem!" I was getting ready to make fun of him in my head when it became clear what he meant, as he was like, "no, but go home and find a friend to help you and come back with the materials and manpower you need." Here's the interesting cultural difference: it's fairly widely accepted that it's difficult to break in and make French friends. My theory on this is that French people seem to make their friends when they're young, in grade school, in their little towns (or in their neighborhood of Paris). By the time they're 20-somethings, most of their friendships are set. So when you meet at, say, the university, you make acquaintances that you chat with casually before class, but you tend not to make lifelong friends this "late" in life. The ENS is kind of an exception to that rule, I think, because it's such a cloistered and elite community.

In any case, this sort of bit me in the ass a few separate times with the bike issue, because a bunch of different people were like, "but just go ask a friend to help." This made me realize what a network of friendships people have here, in the sense that people always know someone who can bail you out of trouble in whatever contexts. They were kind of surprised when I was like, "yeah I don't know anyone who would have a giant lock cutter." I think they just naturally assumed that of course everyone would have a friend who would know how to do that. I was sitting there like, "I'm a foreigner who's only been here for 6 months, how the hell would I know someone like that?" I was nice about it but did tell the building manager that I had indeed taken the metro home on Saturday and asked around but that no one had what I needed. To explain the seriousness of the situation, I was like, "it's a strong lock, it needs a special tool." He was kind of abrupt and was like, "then call a specialist, that's really unlucky for you." Gee thanks.

I left the pool to see what else I could find and saw a neighboring hotel. I thought that was worth a shot, so I asked the woman at the front desk. She was super nice but said they only had small cutters. I asked where the nearest police branch was but it was quite a distance. So then I asked about the pompiers (firemen, who also serve as the 911 service here), and she gave me directions to get to the nearest firehouse. It was about 10 minutes away, which I figured was a bad start since they probably wouldn't just let me walk off with their cutters.

I got to the pompiers, and they were really, really rude. More than anything I think they didn't want to deal with it. I put on my charm as best as I could and explained the situation, and one guy was like, "we can't do that, we don't know it's your bike." I was like, "oh, I brought the bill and the certificate of authenticity with me to show that, and I have the key to the other lock." He was like, "that still doesn't prove it's your bike." WTF???? I was about to question it and ask what would prove it, and he quite literally cut me off and was like, "we save lives, not bikes. Goodbye." Thanks for nothing, asshole.

Next I went to a car dealership I saw on the street, one that had a maintenance department. I spoke to two people there who were very friendly, but again they only had smaller cutters.

Finally I decided to go in another direction where I saw construction workers, but it's a huge construction site and I couldn't get their attention (they were operating heavy machinery). I was about to throw in the towel and rethink my options when I came upon a nice apartment building with a doorman. I figured that was worth a shot too, and that's where I struck gold. Hallelujah, they had a GINORMOUS cutter and were very friendly about it. They even apologized that they weren't allowed to leave the building to come and help me. At that point I didn't care, I was just happy to have the tool I needed.

So I went over to the bike and worked on it for a bit and was definitely making progress but it wasn't totally easy. The big shears cut through the hard rubber casing and about half of the wires, but then I couldn't get the rest of it. So I was playing around with the big shears and then the little cutters I had, thinking that the little ones might be good for detail work. I was sitting there working at it (and making progress, but it was definitely effort), when a trash collector came by and was like, would you like some help? Turns out that two people working on it was just the trick, he held the little pliers while I twisted the two sides in opposite directions and we could hear the wires popping one by one. Still took a few minutes, but we could tell we were on the right track. He was pretty funny...besides being clearly tipsy and smelling rather strongly of what I would guess was cheap vodka, he was like, "well, I hope no one thinks we're stealing it!" I assured him I had the documentation to prove it was mine. Finally we broke through and gave a cheer and a high five and he went on his way. I went back to the apartment building and was like, "thank you sooooo much, I've been trying to figure out what to do for 4 days and you've totally saved my life!" The guard was like, "wow, not every day someone tells you that!" haha. And all this was before about 9 am. I got out of the pool around 8 and spent an hour running around before I got what I needed. By the time I got home at like 9:30, I felt like I'd already had a full day!

So, Sylvain is safely home and I already went out to get a new lock (with a key this time, not screwing around with codes anymore). The thought crosses my mind that if you're mad at someone and really want to inconvenience them, buying a cheap but thick lock and adding to their bike would be REALLY effective revenge. Don't worry, I don't have any plans to implement this idea, but it did strike me that it would be an exquisite inconvenience for whomever you do it to, haha.