Since publishing my Baudelaire post yesterday, I have been constantly debating removing it. I don't really want to censor myself, but I felt like I didn't do a good job of expressing the simplicity of this moment and instead wrote about it from the point of view of some American victim of French marketing, the wool pulled over my eyes by poetry, wine, and the reflection of the June sunshine of the Louvre Pyramid. While the experience touched me, I somehow feel like it was banal and I have not yet mastered the beauty of the everyday.

I prefer the freakish.

Today, in an analogous situation, and with absolutely no warning, Paris went Bizarro on me.

On the 8, heading to Creteil for an English exam, which is absurd in its own right, I was happily listening to my 100% Weezer mix that I had prepared for my iPod that morning, reading over some info on British Parliamentary debates when the clattering of metal added a surprising counterpoint to the end of the Sweater Song. I looked up, as you do, in time to see a 2 and a half foot hipster wearing a Superman t-shirt and an Alfalfa gelled 'do, slide into the seat across from me. The sound had been his crutches. Next to him settles a pleasant yet VERY obese young woman, complete with two-toned ratted hair. They are chatting with each other, and I think to myself, isn't that nice?

The next song comes on Rivers Cuomo sings to me: "I gotta keep my eyes open, you came outta nowhere." The cripster starts massaging the girl, eventually pulling her sweater down, exposing her massive and shapeless shoulder. Rivers: "Man you really freak me out. I'm so afraid of you." It's like a train wreck, I can't keep my eye of this most disturbing public display of affection. He starts kissing her neck. She caresses his arms, scabbed and calloused from the crutches. "And when I lose my cool, I don't know what to do." I am in a panic. There is nowhere to go. I fake fatigue, close my eyes and rest my head against the window. It's really not so upsetting. After all, everyone has a right to love and be loved. "I know you don't mean me no harm, you're just doing your thing." I sense sunlight and open my eyes to see if we are almost at my stop. The cripster and the large gal are going at it. Rivers is back. "Man you really freak me out."

We are close to my stop. I scramble out of the seat and impatiently tap at the door until it opens.