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The Accidental Trip of a Lifetime

For the first time ever, we will be getting a little over a week break from the season for the holidays. This is the year of European qualifications so most leagues get a couple weeks off to let players go to their national team during this time. Since California is such a trek away and would consist of more time flying and adjusting rather than quality time with family and friends, I decided to stay on this side of the pond and take another crack at the city of baguettes, berets and accordions: Paris, France.

Ironically this will be my second attempt of exploring the city of light, but the first time of it being on purpose.


Yes my first time in Paris was on accident. Most people find themselves fawning over the romantic city's language of love, high fashion, tasty pastries and monumental structures. I however, was introduced to the "City of Light," as the city of complete, Utter Darkness; stranded in this massive foreign jungle with a a rolling suitcase and backpack, from 11:00 o'clock at night...until 6:30 in the morning. Roaming the streets at 23 years old. This is my story.


Not a Strong Start

The more I think about it, the more I want to bury my head in my hand for utter disappointment in my rookie mistakes.


So. Many. Unfortunate. Mistakes.


It all started back in December of 2014 when I had a week off from my season in Switzerland. My good friends Melanie and Mark Payne conveniently lived in Champagne, France. (Rewind back another four years where Mel and I played college volley together at UC Davis. Mel was at the time dating Mark who played basketball with us at UC Davis.) At this point they had hit year number 3 of marriage and Mark was at the time competing in the top basketball league in France. (They now have a beautiful baby girl and are back in the states!) They're kinda a big deal. So the initial plan was to grab a quick "Easyjet" flight over to France and spend the Christmas week with some wonderful old time friends!

I was already a bit nervous considering this was going to be my first time flying around Europe by myself. I didn't have a European phone plan so all of this was about to be done without wifi. Straight up old school. The easiest route was to take a train up to Zurich where I'd fly out on a quick hour and a half flight to Paris. I'd then jump on a train up north to Champagne, France where I'd meet Melly at the train station. A quick hop, skip and a jump. Shouldn't be too difficult.

...Overconfidence can really bite ya in the ass.



The morning of my flight already put me in the negative. I woke up to a silent apartment. My roommate Oli, who is


like a human boom box, had already left for holiday. So my apartment stood with an eery quietness as if not a soul was in the entire building. The streets were cold and absent of the normal shuffles and footsteps of strangers walking to work and stopping at bakeries. I looked down at my phone to check the time, only to zone in on the top right corner of an Empty Battery Percentage. "9 percent!? How could I be at 9 percent!?" How could I have forgotten to charge my phone for the one trip that needed me to bring my A game!??" It wasn't until 5 minutes later that I realized I was actually responsible enough to charge the phone, it was my chord that had chosen to stop working completely. 10:00am sharp I anxiously walked out the door with a backpack, puffy coat pulling a carry on roller suitcase with a 9% charged phone. Even if I was able to connect to a wifi, it wasn't going to get me far. I made it to Zurich no problem. That was the nice thing about having the GA pass. I could make it anywhere in Switzerland that I wanted. And the airport was a comfortable straight shot of a train ride away. I made it onto the plane no problem, my suitcase was surprisingly small enough to fit the overhead compartment although I didn't realize that my backpack counted as an extra bag. Luckily I had a massive Swiss coat that could probably make it through a trip to the top of Mt. Everest, so I put the backpack on underneath my coat. I figured if anyone tried stopping me to see what was on my back I'd just say I was born with a hunchback how dare you. The thought was a stretch but hey, I got through the boarding pass check and made it onto the plane no prob bob so I take that as a win.


Already it was going to be a bit of a tight squeeze getting from the Paris airport to the train station. I had about an hour and a half to get from A to B, but if all went right, I'd have about a 45 minute time for error. Still not much but hey, I was confident overconfident.


Our flight was right on schedule and making pretty good time. As it was time to descend I remember thinking, hey this trip's lookin' good I've got loads of time. We prepared for landing getting closer and closer to the runway. 5. 4. 3. 2. 2. 2. 2. mm why haven't we touched the ground yet. I looked out the window and felt my stomach start to fall deep into my chest as I realized that we had just missed our landing strip. We were going back up into the air. 2. We were on 2. We were so close to landing that we were on 2!!! HOW DO YOU MISS THAT LANDING!?? All of this going on inside of my head of course. A lady's voice came softly onto the speaker phone. "We seem to have had difficulties with our landing and missed the strip. We will be turning around to give it another go. Hang tight and we will be down soon." I looked again at the clock, okayy so the 45 minute room for error just got cut down to a 20 minute room for error.

Luckily our second trial was a success but it left me in a panic knowing that nothing else could go wrong for timing sake...boy what a rookie I was. I made it to the tram that connects you from the airport to the train station. Or so I thought. Turns out the tram takes you to the metro. And the metro then stops at the given train station. Silly Linds. HOW DID YOU MISS THERE BEING A METRO RiDE!??

Sad First Minutes in Paris

So I took the tram and hopped on to the metro where of course there was a delay for some reason or another. Either way, it didn't help my cause. Two guys beside me tried their very best to help get me to the correct stop of my train station. "Oh yes that's where we are going too we can help you!" - RED ALERT. RED ALERT LINDS. RED ALERT. It was a little odd that they happened to be going to the same place as me. I told them that I had lived in Paris and they of course asked where. 😳 Caught straight in my lie. But I still stuck with it and just said in a small area in Paris. I didn’t want to seem too vulnerable because after all, I was traveling by myself. Plus, ya girl’s seen “Taken” once or twice. Not trying to follow little miss Kimmy Mills' path in real life.

I made it to the train station with, no time to spare. There was about five minutes till my train took off and

I Still had to print my ticket at the kiosk. The place was packed coming from the underground metro into the train station and I could not find the entrance to the trains to save my life. Finally, I made it to the help center and found the kiosk to print your ticket with two minutes before take off. (The website had only let me reserve the ticket online, but wouldn't let me buy the ticket until I was at the station). So I put my credit card in to retrieve the online ticket. “Unable to read card.” What’d you mean. I tried the kiosk to it’s left. “Invalid card.” No. NO! How can it not read my card!??


“CHOO CHOO!” As I punched the yellow kiosk in frustration, I looked to my right only to watch the wheels of the train slowly begin to turn, and it was off. I stood there watching my train run away from me.

What a day. From the phone to the missed landing to the delayed metro to the invalid reading of my card, to the sad parting of my train leaving me empty with a suitcase and broken heart. I was meant to be in a sepia filtered 60s rom com movie.


I walked back to the help center to see where and when I could book my next train…

”This was the last train that took off for the night.” the manager said.

- I’m sorry um what? Sooo when’s the next train that I can take…

"At 6:30 tomorrow morning."

- Tomorrow morning. Tomorrow tomorrow. As in a day from now?…


So I bought the ticket in a slow panic. Okay, so I have a dead phone, a massive change in arrival plans and no place to stay tonight. Cool. I was able to open my computer and connect to the train station internet for an allotted 20 minutes. Luckily I was able to get a hold of Melly on Facebook and quickly gave her the run down. As I was feeling my anxiety take over, she went into quick action. 19 minutes and 22 seconds in, we set out our new plan. She wrote, “Okay we looked up and found a hotel that isn’t too far from you, we’ll help pay for it just stay there tonight and then we’ll get in contact and meet you at the new time tomorrow." I said my quick goodbye and closed my computer. The second it closed I looked at a metal circumference hanging overhead showing a clock right as it stroke 11:00pm. Suddenly it seemed that every night character in Paris had come out of the corners. It was like I was living in a Thriller music video. Long trench coats, brown bag covered bottles, zig zag footsteps, aggressive shouting of words and cackles all came out of the shadows. A rush of fear overcame me as I scurried through packing up my things and set out for the city in search of a hotel.

Best Western: A Dowd's Best Friend

The first hotel I spotted was full. Crap, it’s Christmas break and I’m in Paris. Didn’t think about that. There I was stuck in one of the most touristic cities in the world on one of the busiest holiday weeks of the year. Hotel 2: Fully booked. Not even a room for one night was available. The deeper I got into the city the more rejections I received. I did hit a couple hotels with an open room, but for 500 euros. - Yeah um no thanks I’m good. At around 11:30pm I found a small Best Western that was still under construction with a ”Best Western Entrance HERE↙️” sign hung loosely ahead. Hey I know Best Western! My mom’s friends with about 30 of them along the West Coast! I walked in hoping that it being my eighth stop, it would turn into a place to crash for the night. A guy who spoke little english and on his second day of work sat at the desk. Once again, Everything. Booked. He could tell that I was a bit out of my element and dealing with some serious travel problems. Lucky for me he turned out to be one very considerate helper. I was hoping that he could help me find some other hotels that were near the area being a local and all. But of course he too was new to the city and knew just about as much as I did when it came to possible hotels. Since their wifi only worked for guests of The Best Western, he let me use the front desk computer so that I could search for local hotel availability. I found a couple options but nothing less than another mile away. He gave me a map of the city (which turned out to be my very best friend of the night.) and once again, I was off. I found two of the hotels which, of course turned out to be completely booked for the night. Jeeeezussss at this point, Paris had to of been overpopulated at a rate of 500% dear lord.


As I walked out of yet another failed attempt of finding a home for the night, with my roller suitcase in hand readjusting my back pack, making sounds of slight whimpers and a lone velcro tear resting on my cheek😢, I stopped in my tracks and came to the realization that I was just gunna have to spend one night, homeless.


Alright Linds, let’s go see Paris.

A true "Night Out on the Town"

I knew I had to change my mindset from a single girl looking for a safe haven, to a strong woman traveling a city with a quick right hook and left jab at the ready.

At that point it was 11:45pm on the dot. I had roughly six hours to see Paris. Allez Go.I looked down at the map and like any tourist, my eyes were set for the Eiffel Tower. A big ass ladder of steel braided in cross section patterns covered in Christmas tree lights. I walked what had seemed like a mere five miles -mind you on cobble stone with a roller suitcase. The streets were initially full of people: some filled with a couple different types of alcohol in celebratory moods, some as lovers on a romantic weekend away, and some tourists like me enjoying the night life of Paree (french accent pronunciation).

I was nervous being alone, but knowing that other people were out and about did give me some comfort.

Though as the night went on, slowly and surely my new stranger- friends/colleagues/ went back to their homes. Because they actually had places to stay.😞 The streets were getting dismal. Less cars filled the roads and the muffled sounds of people were fading away. Oh shit this is getting scary.

First Impressions

I had to keep walking and couldn't let my imagination get the best of me. But the uneasy feelings instantly changed when I emerged from a confined street and reached a bridge hovering a body of water.


To the right of my eye, I saw it. The Eiffel Tower! Wow it looks just the same as on Google! To be honest I really never thought that I’d see the Eiffel Tower in my life. I mean, my mom always would tell us “Go out, see the world. You will always have home here and can always come back to this but I want you girls to go out and see more than California.” And at that moment, I knew that my mom would be proud. (Wellll, she’ll probably have a couple heart attacks when I tell her this story, but this specific part, oh yeah she’d be proud).

As I stood there basking in my silver lining of a moment where I finally understood why I was having such a rough day. Why nothing, and I mean nothing, went according to plan. This moment of standing in such a historical city as Paris; sharing a moment with the eiffel tower answered my "why." If none of that happened, then I would not have this moment right now. It was far though; at least a good 20 minute drive away from me, but I was ready to get to trekking for a closer look of this brightly lit- BOOM BOOM BOOM DOOM.


I kid you not, in the middle of this thought…every LED light attached to that damn ladder of steel, went out.

“Awww come on man!!"

Looks like Paris is cutting back on their PG&E bill huh.

Not gunna lie, there was probably a solid 3 minutes of straight temper tantrum on my part. There I was accepting all the faults in the day. Connecting to the lights of the tower as if it was telling me a story for my existence in that exact moment. The lights gave me a sense of connection and reason for all that had happened. Almost as if it was telling me that this was all supposed to happen. That I was supposed to miss my train and get stranded in potentially one of the most unsafe cities in the world. It was a good moment.

Until it just blew up in my face. Said goodnight. Didn't want it. BYE FELICIA.


Knowing that I had oh so much time to kill, I decided that though this bish said night night to me, I still wanted to go see it first hand from its feet. I looked down to see the time of 1:00am right on the dot. Well I’m definitely not tight on time to make it there. Allez Go.

Paris trip: 7

Linds: a big fat 0.

Like a Modern Day Dora the Explorer

It seemed as every block I passed, the streets grew more and more vacant. Six blocks down and I was officially the only human on the road aside from an oddly large amount of police cars passing by. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were suspicious of my actions being a lone stranger taking herself on a walk at 12:30 in the morning dressed in all black with a black beanie karting a small suitcase along. Speaking of suitcases 🙋 Can we talk about HOW DIFFICULT IT IS TO WALK ON COBBLESTONE PUSHING A ROLLER SUITCASE BESIDE YOU!?!??


It started with a full effort of optimism. Half pushing half picking up and dropping. There were a lot of hand positions I tried out though each one led closer and closer to another fit that jumpstarted the next stage of kicking the suitcase next to me. You see the technique behind this strategy is ya kick the suitcase as far ahead of you as the handle allows, then you walk walk walk to it, pass it until the handle tugs and you’ve gone too far. Then ya thrust it back up and in front of you again. Continue the same process forrrrreverrr.

Consensus: Tough on the biceps, good on keeping the mind busy.

I started to pass what looked to be an important building due to its long ass size in length, mixed with the statues and pillars that stood beyond a large golden gate. This has got to be something important…ended up being the entrance to the Le Palais Royal. Now remember, my phone had completely died at this point so there was no way of taking any pictures of what I was seeing…or was there😏. "Wait! I have my computer!" Call on that Photo Booth camera and lets get this photo shoot going! (two cop cars passed me during my solo jump pics. Just act normal just act normal)


Carry on to the next stop. I packed up my things and continued the journey. Still bordering the water staying true to my "I’m the Map" legend. "Hey look a ferris wheel!" At least this thing’s brightly lit with snowflakes and Christmas decor-BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM. Ohhhhkay, so Eiffel Tower goes to sleep at 12:00am and Ferris Wheel at 1:00am. Got it. I turned around in a sigh of another defeat, only to see a long road with (closed) Christmas booths and kiosks bordering the aisle leading up to none other than the Arc de Triomphe. "Holy crap that means that this is the Champs- Elysées." No, freaking, way. I remembered that this was in the Olsen Twins movie!! (not proud of that reference, plenty of other options Linds and THAT is where your mind goes to??) Time’s clearly not an issue, let’s get closer!

The Champs- Elysées Trek

Okay, in pictures, movies, postcards and posters, the Champs- elysées looks a whole hell of a lot shorter than it is in real life. If it weren’t 2:00 in the morning with sealed shut Christmas Market tents, yeah this would’ve been a perfect stroll. But man, that arc seemed like it was only getting farther and farther away from me! I even had to take a break to rest the legs and sit on my suitcase…unnnntil I realized my rest stop was about 10 feet away from a man sleeping near a bush. YUP I feel rested let’s keep on goin.

One foot in front of the other I kept with the trek. The covered Christmas booths had slowly come to an end whilst thou start of thine most luxurious fashion houses had begun!

Jewels of Cartier to shoes of Louis Vuitton; perfumes of Guerlain to travel bags of Longchamp. Passing each store was like walking through a scene of The Devil Wears Prada. Though each store was rightfully closed with surely one hell of a security alarm, it made no difference to me. This 23 year old was experiencing the work of the most high end fashion stores in the world. Was all good for me...until my left calf started to roll up into my quad with a charlie horse kind of cramp. My body realized it had hit hour 3 of walking in freezing cold weather. I needed to sit down. Looking across the avenue I saw a massive 30 ft screen fronting a store playing footage of surfers shredding the gnar. oo that looks comforting. About as close to feeling like I'm in California as I'm gunna get tonight.

I let me mind rest, which also meant I put my protective guard down for a couple minutes. Feelings of sadness, physical soreness and homesick set in. My body was tired and my mind needed a break. For a couple of minutes it felt relaxing sitting on this bench with my feet up on my suitcase and backpack under my arm next to me. Scoring each surfer with a perfect 10 watching them ride barrels and getting pitted. Classic. My imagination took me to a seated bench at Paradise Point in Santa Cruz with a Beach Hut Delhi sandwich in my hands. Homeeee.

The comfort quickly stopped when I got a feeling of uneasiness to my right. Three women in long clothes quickly bombarded me with a cup in their hand. They either seemed to be intoxicated or high on life, but in a threatening way to me. One girl came up to my face while the other started to go for my suitcase. I realized, oh no, these were gypsies.

I was heavily outnumbered and it seemed that so much was happening at once. I quickly put my hands on my backpack and reeled in my suitcase from my feet. The woman in front of me shaking the cup demanded money and I remember thinking, this is not the time to be nice Lindsay. Protect yourself. I firmly said NO. Go away. No. One started begging even more while the other two started running their mouths in French with a few choice words that I did understand, and choose not to share. I pointed my finger and flew my arm to my right telling them to keep walking. Lucky for me they were off in search of some other Parisian Night Rider to harass. I waited with my head back on a swivel until they were gone out of site. Hollly Cow, three more hours of this? Lord be with me🙏


Like a boxer getting into the ring, I pumped out a couple hop-jumps, cracked my neck and shook out my arms. Alright Alright Alright, keep the mind strong. Let's go get that arc.

The closer I got to the Arc de Triomphe, the more surreal my night started to feel. Though it definitely was one hell of a trek, the end result was by far impressive. A feeling of appreciation came about as I realized that I was for the most part getting The Arc to myself. It was 2:30 in the morning and only taxis were riding up and down the streets cruising the round about. A moment absent of tourists and selfie sticks. A moment that belonged exclusively to me. It's not a bad set up. I decided that the best place to capture this incredible monument was right smack dab in the middle of the street. I got a couple honks for the pic but hey it was worth it.

After sitting for some time just watching this massive piece of history essentially exist, I decided that it was time to continue on with my journey. I pulled my handy map back out and got on course. About half an hour into this voyage I realized that I had taken a wrong turn of some sorts. Going down one street then back up another with some questionable confidence*, I turned the corner and ended up back next to the Seine River. Yesss the "safe" landmark! A couple meters down something shiny caught my eye. It had the figure of what seemed to be a hollow/see-through/crystal rubik's cube. Hollly SH** this is the actual LOUVRE! (I've come to find that one of the best things about traveling by yourself is the art of "getting lost". Almost every time I've ever gotten lost, it's led me to an even cooler destination of adventure! And this situation is no different)


The unexpected trip sure was gifting me with some serious site seeing...Some seriously, unplanned, yet incredible site seeing.

It was a bit before 3:00am at this point, and my need to see the Eiffel was more desired than ever. Luckily I was getting close enough to see the top of the tower through clouds. A small burst of energy helped me continue on. I kept with the "Kick- Push" roller suitcase, passing closed bistros and empty museum halls. Talk about if walls could talk. How lucky was I to have all of this to myself. To observe each passing building that held secrets and stories of thousands of years.

I was imagining what it was like to walk the very streets in which I was passing through back when the city was still being built. What it was like for generations to watch the evolution of society tumble through. There I was walking in my nikes with a backpack and suitcase listening to taxis zip on by. Weird to think that hundreds of years ago the setting would be oh so different. The buildings would be the same but I'd of been in a bustle dress or gown waving to a horse and carriage running through the streets. Even cooler to think that generations before me could say the same exact thing about the generations before them. This place has got some longevity in it! Bravo Paris. Bravo.

Second Impressions

Finally the moment came. I had reached my destination; I, was at the Eiffel Tower. It was pitch black dark outside which made for a bit of an eery feel to the area. The Tower. Was Huge. And I mean, Massive. It's one thing to see these world landmarks in books and magazines: The Statue of Liberty, The Sydney Opera House, La Tour Eiffel. But you never realize just how monumental their presence becomes until you come face to face with them.

I do find the true reason for the Eiffel Tower's birth to be a bit ostentatious. For the longest time I assumed it was some sort of watch tower for the city. Turns out the tower was only built to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the French Revolution. Couldn't a day of free croissants around the city be enough?? Either way I knew that I Had to get a jumping pic. So I pulled back out the computer and photo booth. Life hack: If you put the camera on video and record a jump. All you have to do is grab a screenshot of the proper moment of the jump and boom. You've got your jump pic.



After I nailed the shot I sat down on a bench to rest the legs and looked up at the big ladder of steel. I imagined it sparkling in beauty as it does in those Victoria Secret commercials! It felt good to relax a bit, but of course that only lasted about a half hour when I heard some shuffling through the bushes. I spotted two men strolling the walkways holding cylinders of glowing eiffel tower key chains. One came up to me asking if I wanted to buy some. "5 for 1 euro. You want?" - Hellll no. At this point I, I had hit the daily 10,000 steps, twice. I'd been attacked by gypsies, endured 3 calf cramps, had zero croissants, and formed a grumpy mentality from lack of sleep turning me into the baddest chick in Paris.. I was Mike Tyson. Do not f*ck with me. Nope. Nope. Nope. Go away now. They quickly caught on to my distressed scent and turned around the other way.

Another half hour hanging with the tower and I was back on my feet. It was time to get back to the train station and be with my friends in a cozy place. Maybe with some cookies and a blanket. Ahh that sounds nice.

As I retraced my steps back along the river, I spotted something brightly lit up across the way. It was a Christmas tree! Oh yeah that's what I need right now. Let's go get some jolly vibes and Christmas magic. It was about 4:45 am at this point and I was in need of some positive feels. The tree was beautiful; filled from top to bottom with cobalt blue lights standing at least 50 feet tall. It was located in the center of what seemed to be some type of grand hall. I was so fixated on the tree that I hadn't realized exactly where I was. As I peered a little passed the tree, I started to laugh a bit. I may have come for the tree, but what I didn't know was that I was standing directly in front of the Cathédral Notre Dame de France. WHAT ARE THE CHANCES!? And man that cathedral is big. And preeeetty :)


To help give you an idea of what I was looking at, this picture was taken this past December on our Christmas trip. The tree was the same as the one that stood on my overnight voyage back in 2015, but the Cathedral wasn't lit up as it was here. ↗️


I literally just saw what felt like All of Paris, without a single mean of doing so. Seven monuments,/landmarks/Epic Pieces of History, whatever you want to call it. I hung out with all of those...on accident.

My dad always says, "At least it'll make for a good story." And my god did I live by those words with this trip.

Best Western Comes Full Circle

I was making my way back down the city street towards the train station. It was 5:30 am and I was on the home stretch. My eye caught a familiar sign with an even more familiar face standing beneath it. ”Best Western Entrance HERE↙️” It was my friend who gave me the map to start my night! He must've had the night shift as he was standing outside the hotel on a smoke break. We caught eye and his face instantly transformed into utter shock.

"Noooo. What are you doing here? Have you been out walking this entire night??"

I nodded my head in a sad face smile explaining that the entire city was booked solid for the night.


He quickly threw out his cigarette and opened the door inside. He put my suitcase behind the desk and unlocked the door to the breakfast room of the hotel. It was a tiny Best Western; the storefront couldn't have been bigger than a 20' by 20' room. Total european style. So he was in charge of opening up the doors and kitchen once breakfast hours began. Since I wasn't a guest of the hotel, I wasn't supposed to even be in the building, but this kind kind man helped me into their breakfast room and told me to sit down and rest at one of the tables. Next thing I knew he was pouring orange juice in a cup and unlocking two cabinets to grab crackers and nutella for me. He was my hero. I told him that it was really okay and that I'd be fine; I didn't want to get him into trouble, but he insisted. He sat down as we talked for a couple minutes. This was his first time living in Paris. He was from another country and moved here to start a new life for himself. I told him that I was from California and he shared that that was on his bucket list of places to see. It was nice to have a friend to talk to after the craziest night I think I've ever lived to experience.

As it was getting time to leave for the train station, he told me that when I walk out of the room, to put the snacks in my pockets because there were cameras posted and he wasn't allowed to let anyone who's not a guest to access anything from the breakfast room. Again, the kindest citizen. It's people like him that give me hope in humanity. It was him who started me on this journey around the city, gifting me with my trusty map. And it was him who ended the trip with a friendly gesture of help and snacks to send me on my way. I hope so desperately that he knows just how much he helped me that night.

I got to the train station by around 6:10am. At this point, all of the scary characters were gone. The early risers were back in full force buying their coffee shuffling to start their day, as I was hopefully ending mine. The ticket office was finally open and HUZZAH! I was able to retrieve my train ticket. As I waited for my train to come, I sat with my roller suitcase and backpack next to me both having acted as my security blanket all night.

There was a piano sitting in the station and the thought to dabble on it definitely crossed my mind. You know, as a way to poetically end the trip. We go back into sepia mode where I'm back sitting on the exact bench that I once watched my beloved 11:00pm train whisk away. But there I stay; 7 hours later. A new women. A wiser woman. A woman who conquered the entire city by her lonesome. A woman who laughed. Who cried. A woman who crushed it through the night to make for a good story. - aaaand scene.

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