Pas d'appartement

So I almost had an apartment today. I saw it Saturday. It was through an agency (bad) but very close to everything and it was cute enough. The guy told me how much I would have to pay and said come back Monday. I asked him if I needed money, he said not yet. I came back Monday. Suddenly, I was thrown a one year lease, 300€ extra he didn't tell me about, a move in date a week later than what was agreed on, and I had to put 4500€ in the bank and not touch it for the next year. I told them I was not informed of the 300€ and I was worried about what other charges they'd tack on, one lady argued for me, the rest argued against, and then I stared straight into four French faces, all with that stupid French expression, you know the one, the I'm-trying-to-look-like-I-care-but-I-really-don't-and-what-I-really-want-is-
another-vacation-and-frankly-I-don't-care-if-I-help-you-
or-not-because-our-country-unlike-your-stupid-country-
does-not-base-itself-on-customer-service look. They said I had to put down 930€ today (remember this part of the story: "I asked him if I needed money, he said not yet.") to hold the apartment until I could get enough money transferred over and if I changed my mind, they would keep the cash. To which I said, "Fine I'll go withdraw the money and come back," left the office, and didn't go back. I researched two other agency options, then heard that another apartment I looked at on Saturday was still available. Thus, provided everything this time goes smoothly, I will sharing an apartment down by Jardin de Luxembourg in the 6th. Far away from everything, but at this point I don't care. It's not through an agency, and it has a washer/dryer. (This is very exciting to me.) It's technically a one bedroom so we'll have to be creative building a second bedroom, but there's more than enough room to accomplish this. What I've learned though from my few weeks in France is that you should never count on anything. So I will wait til I get concrete evidence that I have an apartment (which in France still doesn't mean much.)

In other news, I washed my carte d'orange (metro pass). In the washing machine. So that's fun. I went around Saturday asking if anyone would replace it. I was repeatedly told it was impossible, though I really fail to understand how it's impossible to give me another coupon when I have the coupon and the receipt to prove I'm not making it up. They told me that I have to go to the ticket counter everytime I go through the metro and ask them to let me through. Til November. Um....no, thank you.

In other other news, I was supposed to start teaching tomorrow but the academie scheduled my medical exam for my carte de sejour at 1:30. So I called the school and said I'm supposed to teach 10:30 til 4 tomorrow but my medical exam is at 1:30, and the lady responded, "Ok so you cannot work tomorrow, I will tell the English teachers." Simple as pie here, calling in sick. (Though, yes, it wasn't really 'calling in sick' b/c I have to go to this exam.)

Anyway I don't know. France stands for frustrating. But in my numerous confrontations with French people I can already feel myself picking up the language faster than I did the whole time in Strasbourg. And apparently I carry myself so well that people think I know everything. Just during this last week I was asked:
1. if I knew where the sugar was at the market
2. if I knew anything about white wine and if I could help pick a good kind out
3. if I knew the neighborhood very well
4. which direction is Barbes Rochechouart...or however you spell it.

And with the exception of the last question, when I responded "non je ne sais pas, desolee," I was met with equally sour looks of disappointment slash anger.

This post is probably not making people jump off their couches to come to France, I realize. But maybe in a few months I will have more posts that will.