An American Embarrassed

I got onto the Métro in Paris the other day with a bed. It was a serious miscalculation that I was to regret almost immediately but a decision I could not reconsider, because once one has struggled through a turnstile with a bed there is no turning back.

To explain why I had acquired this bed: I am living in Paris while doing research for my dissertation, which is on 14th-century French manuscript painting; I have a guest coming to visit; my small studio apartment has only one

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