Six months and three brand new passports later, we were in an Uber on our way to the airport. The plane ride was just as boring and uncomfortable as I had expected. But there was one notable incident. An old man started ranting about the harmful effects of microplastics on the environment and how we could have avoided the current crisis if we had just switched to biodegradable, plant-based plastics. His tirade escalated until he was shouting, “THE END HAS COME, THE END OF DAYS IS HERE!” He caused such a disturbance that air marshals had to escort him off the plane, delaying our flight by 4 hours. Many people on the plane had their phones out to record the fiasco, hoping to go viral on tic-tok.

  When we finally landed in Paris, it was already evening. Our first stop was the hotel that the radio station had booked. I was dead tired after the flight, honestly who can sleep in those seats? We hailed a taxi at the airport and Alex took over. “Peux-tu nous emmener à l'?le Saint-Louis?” It was a smooth ride to the hotel with Alex doing all the talking. I am so glad we brought him. Hopefully we wouldn't spend a lot of our trip being scammed. As Paris is known for scammers.

  The hotel was on the ?le Saint-Louis with a great view of the Seine River. I didn’t think we could stay on an island in the middle of the river but apparently it was very popular with tourists. It was also very close to the Notre Dame cathedral.

  Early the next morning. “Alex, wake up!” I yell across the hotel room. “It is only 8 Am local time. This is hours before he usually wakes up.” Amy sneered. “Randy, just push him out of bed. That will do it.”

  So I did just that. “AHH.”

  “Just because you are my parents doesn’t give you the right to be assholes!” Alex complained. “You are 25 and still living at home. THAT gives us the right to be assholes.” Amy yells back.

  “Come on, we are in PARIS. Let's go eat some croissants and eclairs for breakfast from a bakery!”

  “Yeah, a bakery!.”

  “Don’t forget to go, Huh Huh Huh, in a french accent!”

  “Man you guys are childish.” Alex mumbles

  “Why was the French baker poor? He could only make a little bit of dough!” I chime in.

  Only silence greeted me, they both looked away from me and walked away in shame. Why is this such a common occurrence? At least Alex is awake now I thought.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  After going to get breakfast we were off to explore the city with our baked goods in hand.

  “Man, French people don’t shower enough.” Amy complained in a low voice. “You have to get that natural fragrance.” I replied.

  We visited many things the first day. Notre Dame, some other church near Notre Dame(Sainte-Chapelle), and the Louvre.

  On the third day we went to the Eiffel Tower. But it didn’t go so well. As we were walking to the majestic tower, I felt a slight touch on my butt. “What the hell, Amy we are in public!” I shout. “Uhh what.” I quickly looked around and saw Amy 3 feet away from me… “Pickpocket!” Yelled another tourist. There was a woman running away from me.

  I gave chase. We weaved in and out of other pedestrians. There were stairs ahead, she grabbed the railing and leaped over. Que mission impossible music and hardcore parkour moves…

  In reality this pickpocket is slow, and when she turned around to look at me while running. DONG she ran into a light pole. I think she fell in slow motion. “Give me back my wallet you thief.” I yelled as I caught up and grabbed her arm. A crowd gathered around after the disturbance we caused from the chase. I can’t stand thieves. And from the angry looks all around me neither could the crowd. She started begging in English.

  “Please sir let me go, I have starving kids!” She cried loudly, I think I even saw snot come out of her nose. So I gave her a sympathetic look and called the police. There was no way in hell I wasn’t turning her in to the police. I mean seriously you have to be accountable for your actions. After a long day at the police station with our thief we got back to the hotel.

  “Alex, your mom and I have to discuss the meaning of life, go find something to do outside the hotel.” I promptly kicked him out when we got back so we could have some alone time. He is 25 for god’s sake he should understand. Also, maybe he could find a hot French girlfriend. He can write from anywhere in the world afterall.

  We never managed to see the Eiffel Tower on that day, except from a very long distance. We also didn’t get to see it on the following days. Our schedule was just too full of other sites to see.

  On the night before our return flight, a volcano erupted in Iceland. “You know our flight had a layover in Iceland right.” Amy, always the bearer of bad news, informed us. “Well at least we can see the Eiffel Tower tomorrow.” “Hooray!”

  “You know it really isn’t that special.” I chose to ignore that comment.

  The next day we hailed an overpriced taxi and headed straight there. As we were admiring the magnificent, world-renowned structure, we noticed a little girl crying in the street. “Oh my God, there’s a truck coming!” Amy screamed. Without thinking, I sprinted into the road and scooped the girl up just in time to avoid the oncoming truck. “Little girl, where is your family?” I asked her gently when we got to the other side of the street. She replied in some French gibberish that I couldn’t understand, I should bring her back to Alex for translation.

  So I crossed the street and rejoined Alex and Amy, and set the little girl back down. I heard a loud honk—HONK! HONK! Another truck was barreling down the road, completely out of control. It jumped the curb and headed straight for us. There was no time to get out of the way. Fortunately, the little girl had run a few feet away when I put her down, and the truck missed her. But for us, there was no such luck.

  Just as the truck was about to hit us…

  …System installing…

  “Sheep shove, sheep grunt, sheep don’t think to look in front.” I mumble in my sleep, it was a line from my favorite children's book, Sheep in a Jeep. —BEEP BEEP! My alarm clock went off. I woke up with a start, my heart pounding in my chest. “It was just a dream!” I exclaimed in relief. Amy sat up beside me, equally startled. “I’m not dead!” she shouted, still caught up in the panic of the dream. From across the hall, I could hear Alex yelling, “It wasn’t real!”

  OH FUCK!