This afternoon, our building elevator decided to stop between the 3rd and 4th floors. With us in it. I was taking this picture when the operator started speaking to us, but I think it perfectly illustrates what was going on. And if a picture is worth a thousand words, then this must be what my French sounded like on the receiving end.
Don't worry though - we made it out. Last time we were stuck in an elevator, we were rescued by a cowboy. This time, it was our slightly-obnoxious teenage neighbor who encouraged us to open the door, press another number... and voila, the elevator kicked into gear and ascended to the 4th floor. It seems like every time we step out the front door, an awkward moment is just waiting to happen :) Ah, life.
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AuthorBecause why not get married and move to Paris to really kick off your thirties? Archives
December 2016
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