Translation of a letter from a bus passenger, published today in the Parisien [my favorite French newspaper].
After my three-quarters of an hour of metro to reach the Porte de Clignancourt, bus 255 is 
about to leave without me. I rush on, validate my ticket in a hurry, and push toward the middle of the crowded bus. I am looking distractedly out of the window when a man about thirty, shaven head, in a hooded black sweatshirt and baggy pants, comes up to me and shows me his wallet opened to an I.D. card that I don't have time to check out. His gesture makes me think of cops on TV shows.
Is it a raid by the drug police? I don't have much time to think about it. In a low voice, he whispers, "Contrôle des billets s'il vous plaît." A little disappointed, I give him my ticket and he tears it before giving it back to me. I don't know if I should laugh, wondering if it's not a joke, when I see right next to him the same odd specimen. He also is proceeding with a very discreet contrôle of the passengers. I lift my head and realize that in fact there are four of them in the bus doing the same thing. Their mission: not to be seen by the cheaters.
As for me, I would have stayed with the contrôleurs in uniform. Maybe less discreet, but more reassuring.
--Carène Verdon
A similar experience happened to me in Paris 2 weeks ago... Coming out of the Metro, I was physically grabbed by a huge guy (not in uniform, not displaying any identity himself). He demanded my Metro pass. It took me so by surprise and a bit to get what he was after. There was something decidedly aggressive and IMO uncalled for, in the manner it was performed. The gentle notices in the NY MTA informing you that since July of 2005, your packpack may have to be inspected seem so benign..
These are the times we live in.
Very 1984.
Posted by: ParisBreakfasts | 12 November 2006 at 12:13