Roasted alive!

In the afternoon I emerged from the Metro to be met by an extraordinary monstrosity.

I really wasn't expecting to see this magnificent building, so I was blown away with its grandeur and regal presence. The roman architecture is quite beautiful.

My mission this afternoon was to explore the fancy shops called Les Lafayettes.

The district was thick with affluence.

I entered a three storied shop that was like Amazon street/surfwear. The funky window displays and pumping music lured me in. But as I ENTERED the shop the security alarm went off. I was quite perplexed as to why this occurred. The security guard didn't say anything, he just indicated with a swish of his head for me to come in. I kind of shrugged my shoulders in disbelief. But I knew there could be trouble when I exited.

Yes, sure enough when I exited the alarms rang loud and clear. I looked at the same security guard with dismay and he motioned for me to carry on.       Whew!  ( I wondered why THAT happened???????)

Feeling the need to go to the loo, I decided that it would be kinda cool to use the posh loos in one of the department stores. Up ahead was Printemps. This was an obviously high-end shop with its swivel glass doors, expansive atrium and three security guards standing at the door. I nervously passed the security guards as I walked past the sensor. 

BEEP BEEP BEEP. 

All three guards descended upon me. The situation deteriorated rapidly. I asked them to hold my bag and tried again.

 BEEP BEEP BEEP.

 One of the guards suggested that it was my i phone. 

BEEP BEEP BEEP. 

I was beginning to feel humiliated. Another guard suggested it was my belt!

 BEEP BEEP BEEP. 

I asked the guard to help me, as I didn't know why I was setting the alarm off. He was very kind and the kinder he was, the more I felt like crying. He suggested that it might be the tag still on the t shirt that I was wearing underneath my coat. Aha. Yes. That must have been it. Inside my head, I cursed the vendor that sold me the t shirt for not doing this at the point of sale. In the end I had to retreat from the polished atrium in shame.

I took the Metro straight home feeling absolutely rotten!!!! I whipped off my T shirt, cut the tag off and cut all tags off all my T shirts. After licking my wounds and wondering what to do next it dawned on me what the culprit was! It was the little leather money pouch that I had tucked into my bra. The bar code was still stuck to the lining! OMG! It hadn't activated in any of the other low-end shops that I had entered into all week. 

I received notification that I had run out of credit on my cell phone. I hopped back on the Metro to a large shopping complex and found the shop where I needed to reload my card. The nice gentleman at the front desk took my name and said that he would be with me in a minute. After thirty minutes I took a seat. I was served bang on 60 minutes later. The rapid fire french conversation had me bewildered, but I came away with what I thought was a re-load. 

Night had fallen and I crawled into bed feeling totally wretched; physically and emotionally "cooked".