C''était late 1980s, I entered the wage (an aria dirty, in fact): I calculated, very concretely, that to survive in the Paris of those years, there was no need to over 3000 F . month (today is 457 €):
- 1000 F. a chirp (a maid's room of 12 m²);
- 1000 F. to eat (not to steal);
- and 1000 F. pocket money for books, cinemas and bars and miscellaneous.
short, it was sufficient at the time, if you do not drink too much. While today, who can afford what, with such misery? Five or six grams of coke, at most!
So I was working in this tiny device Cinema Quartier Latin (for still a lot more than that, then it bathed pepete question) but I lived far, the meetings never finished before 0:30 am, and one day, just before major holidays, a transitive girlfriend (a friend of friend), let's call her Flo, who was being exploited for one year in the next street to babissiter four hours a day for anything other than the enjoyment of a maid's room riquiqui me the keys to file his room since leaving for two months.
Hurrah, happiness, everything becomes simple, Rimbaud resurfaced as always.
And then I discovered the windows, ease of access to: all was not so padlocked (not yet digicodes either), it was enough to dare to utter a few windows, windows, doors. Throughout this hot summer, I slept many nights on rooftops not know what everything is different seen from above is like a machine to travel back in time: the city is magnified so much immersed in the mystery of caves and rocks with holes scattered lights. Upon awakening, he was always noon, even at six o'clock in the morning when the dew urban and tingle you need to snort.
And September is back, and Flo as this, that he should return the keys (no room for two) this micro-paradise located right next to my dream machine, back across town for lunch and dinner. ...
Hey! no, actually! Flo was not the only one to work for nothing for those citizens ... They exploited another girl for housework may be occupying the room across from hers, which she had spun the keys before leaving her also on holiday - and then never return.
So, I stayed there in the room across , first a little excited to intrude illegally as easily as in this warm bed, and then taking them taste and then you get used to so quickly to greet regular ignorant owner down the stairs ...
And then one day it tumbling to seven o'clock in the morning I do not know who in the room, shouting: "But you have no shame? Who are you and what are you doing here, etc.. ", Then it only remains to dress quickly and leave, his book under his arm, putting all his arrogance to him argue that there was not even a sink, just a tap in the bathroom to legged on the floor.
It was from there that I started sleeping in the cinema the balcony, wrapped in a sleeping bag.
And one morning I was awakened with a start, naked in my sleeping bag, kids amazed by thirty and jokers: I had not been warned of this projection school.
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