Theft by Finding - David Sedaris

“C’est normal,” the syndic said.
Of all the partners, my favorites were the couple who own the tiny apartment on the half landing
between the first and second floors. They’ve got a leak in the roof, but their biggest problem is their
tenant, who hasn’t paid the rent in months. “Oh, him,” everyone said. “He’s crazy.” The husband was
honey-colored and spoke with an accent I couldn’t identify. He was maybe in his late sixties, but his
face was unlined and surprised-looking. “Well, we know he’s crazy,” he said. “I just wish we’d
known it sooner.”
The meeting proceeded, and just as it was winding up, the syndic laid down her papers. “Who’s
been building fires?” she asked. The informer, of course, had been Madame S., who conveniently
reexamined her test tube of calcium. According to the syndic, fires are essentially illegal in Paris.
People build them all the time, but apparently not her people. If it simply came down to asphyxiating
Madame S., she’d be all for it, but legally any death would be the syndic’s responsibility. Our options
are to “entube” the chimney, which would allow us to build charcoal fires, or tear down the building
and reconstruct it from scratch. I left the meeting, my face burning. I’d chosen this apartment
specifically because of the fireplaces and if we can’t use them, I’d just as soon move.
At the Odeon Métro stop I saw a baby lying alone in her basket next to an ashtray and a little sign
reading AIDEZ MOI SVP. The mother was hanging out at the top of the stairs and would look down
every few minutes, checking to see if she’d earned any money.
January 26, 2002
Florence, Italy
Me: What do you want as your main birthday gift?
Hugh: I want to attend Madame S.’s funeral.
January 28, 2002
Florence
Florence often smells like toast.
January 30, 2002
Paris
It took over twelve hours to get from our Florence hotel room to our apartment in Paris. Hugh and I
awoke at four thirty a.m. and walked through our door, finally, at ten to five in the afternoon. The first
problem was the fog. We’d boarded our plane at seven fifteen and spent an hour and a half parked on