Hammering In My Head
The other day I posted something I sort of regret. I say sort of because there is always noise in my head shouting me down and it's embarrassing. But I shared it anyway because I thought, I know this is a thing that does happen and I know there are people of every color and exoticism with cool-funky names that feel they were rejected before they were even let in the door.
The noise in my head that kept me awake: we didn’t get the apartment even though we make more than enough $$, exceed every single qualification, and offered to pay the first year upfront.
My head: did the owner see my name (Rudolfo Martinez) and decide, ‘too ethnic, hell no’?
Me: No way. It’s a sellers market and they’re just going a differenr route.
My head: right.
Me: right.
My head: right?
Me: fucking hell if I know.
It turns out it was likely just noise. The owner is away in India living the joie de vivre that Parisians are famous for (and one of the most appealing things about the entire Parisian experience) and has not…
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to A Chicano In Paris to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.