Sure, the price of the lot was 4-5-6 euros, he planned to give it to me anyway. We see each other almost every Saturday and I keep haggling with him. I still laugh a lot when I remember.
My funny stamp story goes back to the summer of 1983 when I was walking along a back street in a rather unsalubrious part of the suburbs of Paris. At the time I was working as a tour manager for a cut-price tour operator that organised cheap weekend tours for British visitors to Paris, staying in rather seedy hotels outside the downtown area.
Walking along the street, I heard a woman in a third-floor apartment above me who was obviously having an argument with a lover or boyfriend over the telephone. As the conversation got more heated, the young lady screamed and threw some screwed-up pieces of paper out of the window onto the sidewalk below, before slamming down the phone and shutting the window.
I saw that the discarded pieces of paper were a letter in an envelope, and that there was an Algerian stamp on the envelope. After waiting a while to make sure I was not being observed, I picked up the envelope and tore off the corner with the stamp. I placed it carefully in my wallet and soaked the stamp off and put it in my album when I got home.
Although I am fluent in French I thought it would have been rather intrusive to read the contents of the letter, so I disposed of it in the nearest litter bin.
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