...Continued from page 1

When I ask who this might be she says, "English pop star with big horn-rimmed glasses." About the Diana Krall, I don't bother asking.

This is only a minor bucketful of what seems like a stream - nay, river - of consciousness defying accurate notes, so we arrive at the time to pay the café's note.

"What do you have? I have so much change," Susanne says. "I gotta get rid of some of it. I owe you ten, how much is it? Did you pay for yours?"

Susanne takes back the kilo of change and replaces it with paper bills, and more coins. She says, "I have lost years in Paris, and every time I come back. I find them again."

"Have you seen the three-card monte? You gotta watch out for pickpockets."

The 'Group Photo of the Week' is taken out on the café's terrace, but it is not as dynamic as the inside shots. "So where are we going to meet?" Susanne asks Christina.

An eating place is described as being near Port-Royal, and a favorite of Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir, but is really in the 7th arrondissement - a newly-opened place called the 'Atelier.' Susanne says no reservations are needed - just get into the bar there, and you are almost in line.

Then she shows me her favorite bed. It looks like a sardine can. Actually, it is a picture postcard of a bed-like-a-sardine-can exhibit in the Pompidou Centre.

She asks Christina, "Do you really need to go back to your hotel?" She says she decided two nights ago what she is going to eat tonight - steak tartare and - and I don't catch the 'and.'

"Like the Buddha Bar, we went there on our anniversary, and there's a Gay disco we want to go to on -" Iphoto: cash for drinks don't catch the street name - "Gotan Project," which is subtitled, 'Quand le Tango Rencontre l'Electro.' "There's all the music in the background when you're walking around Paris."

Today's 'take' for La Corona.

Christina disappears and Susanne waits for me on the café's terrace and we walk across the Pont des Arts to the Quartier Latin. The bridge's new decking is almost finished. At the other side, Susanne knows a shortcut through the Institut de France, but I stick to going around through the right side, to the Rue de Seine.

About a block up, somebody has pasted a Fête de Musique 'reserved parking' sign to the sidewalk. Fat chance, I think. Susanne continues on to Buci, while I angle up to the Boulevard Saint-Germain to the métro station.

I hope I can get a free ride from the métro, but the barrier demands a ticket. 'Mardi Noir' is over, this Thursday.

The 'Hat Story of the Week'

This is actually not about hats, but about a real non-event in my apartment building. The only thing left to do to get cable-Internet to my computer, is to get the key to the garbage room door. The cable access is in there somewhere.

When the TV antenna was switched from the cable-TV to the house antenna, the technician went in there, and did the switch back in a jiffy. But now the door is locked and I've never gotten a key, because my landlord has never gotten the key from the building management - which I continue to think is based in Panama.

My next-door neighbor has a key but he doesn't know where it is. He thinks it may be unfindable. After getting back from the club today, there was no sign of life at any of the other five doors on my floor.

So I tried again just before thephoto: reserved parking, fete de la musique news at 20:00. A couple at the opposite end of the hallway were in, but they didn't have a key. They never had one they said. They suggested I jimmy the door.

Right after the news at 21:00, I tried the other doors again. The one to the left of the door at the opposite end of the hall opened and the gent there said he had no key, and he'd lived there for two years.

The most unlikely 'no parking' sign in Paris.

Basically, everybody survives without a key like I do. I prefer to carry my garbage downstairs and toss it into the bins on the ground floor. But this leaves a question - if nobody has a key, who locked the door?

There is a 'fixit' guy who lives on the eighth floor. He's the one with the pineapple on the roof and the tabac-sign attached to the house's TV antenna, because, he told me, he used to be a sailor. If he hasn't got the key, I'll bet he knows who does. Buying him a beer at the café may help to get it.

About the 'Café Metropole Club' About Page

Being a member of this club is pretty low-stress, compared to being its secretary. If you care to read the 'About the Café Metropole Club' page it will tell you a bit about the club and how laid-back it appears to be. Being free and having citron-pressés are its other plus-points. If lots of needless information is your goal, I suggest that you think twice about joining this club.

You can give this 'About' page a pass if its needless details are superfluous. Knowing more than the one fact that you can become a lifetime member of this online magazine's live, free and real club by being at any one or more of its meetings in Paris, yourself, is excess mental baggage.

Where, How, Who, What, Why Not, When?

Club meetings begin - contrary to the usual Paris 'exceptions' - about 15:00 on Thursdays and continue until 17:00, in Europe's only Zone of Fête Time - which is really 'CET' for short and not 'ZFT' - and elsewhere known as 3 pm to 5 pm in unmusical areas of the planet, even though club meetings are only held in the musical Paris part of it, mostly.

Bringing a 'Quote of the Week' or concocting any other 'Things of the Week' are not 'rules' to be obeyed. True 'firsts' are more than welcome too, with 'first' scoring far higher than 'true' if they are not untrue. This is a general rule rather than a club ex-'rule' or informal 'exception.'

If you prefer to be 'not found' on the Internet, or 'opted-out,' please tell the club's secretary before hegraphic: club location map makes you mildly famous. 'No rules' have ceased being an 'exception' or a 'rule' a long time ago. There are some other 'exceptions,' but really, none worth mentioning much.

Talking moderately at meetings is okay. Whatever you say will be honestly appreciated by the other members present if they are listening, which they really do sometimes - and by all readers of this online magazine, if it should happen to be written here, as some of it is, sometimes.*

*The above paragraph is unchanged since last week on account of today's lack of 'firsts,' 'Cities of the Week,' 'drinks of the week' other than citron-pressé, and because the 'Food of the Week' was meringue.

The café's location is:

Café-Tabac La Corona
2. Rue de l'Amiral de Coligny - or - 30. Quai du Louvre
Paris 1. Métro: Louvre-Rivoli, Pont-Neuf or Châtelet.
Every Thursday from 15:00 to 17:00.

A bientôt à Paris
signature, regards, ric

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