Monday, November 22, 2010

Sleepwalking in the Square

With all of the exotic, alluring, and just plain fun sleepwear available, why is it that I wear pajamas?  But I do.  Silk in summer; flannel in winter.  I set it in regard to the season, like a true follower of René Descartes, I employ logic in my choice.  But should not that be right?  Anyway, to be honest, I do not have a lover. 
The answer is very simple: I am one of those unfortunate persons who sleepwalks on occasion; and have been known to leave the house despite the locked door and the bell that I set when the door opens so that I can awaken.  Fortunately, the streets of the Upper City where I live are practically deserted and untravelled.  Unfortunately, it is on a mountain; but, fortunately, I have had no falling out.    (bad pun) 
One occasion taught me prudence.  I was sleeping one summer night trying to beat the heat with a minimum of clothing (it was too early for the a/c) when I had one of my sleepwalking episodes.  After a while I was awakened by the police in the middle of the Place de Parvis (The Square in front of the Cathédrale) and I was wearing nothing but my short nightie!  Since it was semi-transparent, I was mortifed then; but it seems funny in retrospect!    
[Funny thing: I have worn clothing something like that on a catwalk; but there's something psychologically distancing about being on the stage and the lighting during a clothing show that makes it depersonalized.  Or maybe it is simply what has been gotten used to.  Anyway, that was not the case in the middle of the parvis at 0200 A.M. or thereabouts.]
The police were very understanding and real gentlemen.  (Really, they are.)  They loaned me a windbreaker, made a brave show of averting their eyes, and returned me to my home.  And allowed me the graceful entry without hubbub and the certain scolding of my Maman, who warned me repeatedly! 
About two weeks later, one of my neighbors that I met in the coffee house observed that the police were patrolling the Upper City more consistently than usual, and speculated that there was some miscreant aloof.  I was not about to tell the true story! 

1 comment:

  1. Grenouille Fille, your English is excellent; and you have a real talent for narration.