It's on everyone's lips: the strikes. Something funny happens on my train line, the C, and I suspect I'm not the only one who suffers from it.
Sarko reformed the right to strike forcing the workers to announce it in advance and to provide a minimum service so that the transport-ees would not be screwed in the arse. Sweet of him wasn't it?
My ass, for one, is thanking his bold little 'tude because I remember the hundreds of people packed on the quais, and the crush-me-to-death ride to work where I sometimes feared for my life. If the crowds didn't do you in, the B.O. certainly would. Where's the old spice man when you need him? They make some fine deodorant over there.
I support the strike controls 100%, even though I'm sure there are thousands of people who hit the streets to tell me just how wrong I am and that France is becoming, GHASP, the United States! (Has it really gotten so awful that the US is tantamount to bad?)
Sark's heart was in the right place, I think. Making sure people can get to their jobs is crucial to the country's GDP, but he was a bit naive. The French are not a nation of bend-over-ers. The rules were set in stone, but the crews promptly took out their chisels.
The little effers are quite wily. The strikes never seem to hit when they're planned, but rather 3-5 days after the scheduled day, lasting for up to a week. Take tonight for example. 7:45pm, on my way home... the train is so packed the windows are actually STEAMED. Ridic'.
My guess: they all go on strike, then take vacation after. It's a double rainbow of vacation policy + strike policy that shoots out of my ass no matter what.