The room was appalling.
The toilet was loose, it wobbled and there were silverfish on the floor. It was in the Rue St Deny, the red light district I was later to find out, only I didn't know that. It was my first time to Paris. All would become obvious walking past the whores once you left this supposed hotel and headed off somewhere touristy.
Once darkness set in there would always be one window in the street that people would stare up at making one wonder as to what was being offered up there.
At night my hotel was noisy. I was hoping it would be with the sounds of the whores earning their francs, but it was just African staff drunk somewhere. I was sure we were the only ones in the whole hotel. There would be no breakfast ready, until I used the few words of French I had, petite dejeuner?
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