I ran into the concierge as I left my Parisian apartment the other day. She had this “cat who swallowed the canary” look on her face. I was in a hurry and would normally have breezed right by her with a quick “bonjour” but I was intrigued – my errands could wait.
“I finally did it”, she whispered, looking around with a furtive glance. This was highly confidential, top secret info she was about to spill and it was for my ears only.
“I got her good this time, that Mme Blanc and her stupid dog, she is not dealing with an amateur here.”
Now, for a little background information, Mme Blanc is a 70-something tenant on the ground floor who benefits from the post-war Rent Control Law of 1948, meaning that her rent was frozen in that year and has not been raised since(!). So, in essence, she pays about 150€ monthly whereas other tenants in the same-size apartments would pay ten times as much, if not more. Once she moves out, the rent will hit the market price. But, I can assure you, Mme Blanc and her Yorkshire terrier, Rafa, (short for Raphael) are not going anywhere.
Nobody Likes Rafa
To be fair to Mme Rodriguez, the concierge, the fact that she herself pays more rent than Mme Blanc doesn’t matter. What matters is the disrespect shown to her by the silly little mutt, Rafa. Rafa barks, bites and poos in the apartment courtyard which is supposedly off-limits to pets.
Mme Blanc has a habit of sunbathing in the courtyard hardly dressed appropriately for a public place (but we don’t care about that here in France; what we care about is the dog). When she does her sun-worshiping routine, Rafa is at her side trying to bite anyone who crosses his path (myself included). Nobody likes Rafa.
“I couldn’t stand it anymore. That dog continues to poo in the courtyard and she doesn’t pick it up. It’s not my job to clean up after her dog.”
“So what did you do? I know you did something,” I said.
“You’re freaking right,” Mme Rodriguez said. “I picked up the poo and put in on her door mat. Now she has to deal with it.”
This was a real Laughing Out Loud situation. I couldn’t help it. I could just imagine Mme Blanc’s face when she discovered her dog’s poo hand-delivered to her doorstep. I wish I had been going up to my apartment at that moment and had seen/smelt it first-hand. I bet Mme Blanc would not even suspect the concierge. She would probably think it was one of the kids in the building. The secret is safe with me (and with all of you now).
Taking Care of the Shituation
I was proud of my concierge that day. She took matters into her own hands and handled the shituation (pun intended) in a very efficient way. I’m sure that Rafa’s poo will be disposed of in a proper manner from now on – and not left in the courtyard. However, I did run into Rafa on my way home yesterday. We crossed paths and I was an eye witness to his peeing right at the entrance of the concierge’s apartment. That dog is smarter than I thought!