The Metro: Strike #2

We left the open-air market and continued on towards the Metro.  If you haven't been to Paris, please note this picture.  There is a little slot, before the first turnstile, where you insert your ticket.  If your ticket is good, it will unlock the turnstile and then swing open the second barrier.  Also note that the second barrier is so high that you can't even see the top of it in this picture.   

Jamie inserted his ticket and made it through to the other side.  My ticket was--again--not registering, but eventually I heard a click and I quickly pushed through the first turnstile.  I was immediately face to face with the second barrier, which for some reason did not open.  Instinctively, I tried to push my way backward--but the turnstile was locked.  My hands were beside my face and I couldn't move; it was tight.  Parisians are skinny...and they don't cater to tourists.  And no, I couldn't squeeze through the itty-bitty gap on the side of the barrier (it's much smaller than it appears in this photo).  I quickly told Jamie that I was stuck; as if he couldn't see the panicked look on my face through the hole in the barrier.  He, in a most sensitive voice (that was clearly masking laughter), assured me that he was going to find a way to get my out of there.  And just as he was examining the barriers, and pulling here and tugging there, an angel walked in.  I was saved by a local with a smirk on her face; she didn't speak a word of English to me, but she scanned her ticket and quickly pushed us both through.  Just as quickly, she walked away, as I repeated "Merci" over and over again until I sounded like a broken record.  And at that moment, I was convinced that all Parisians are not rude and insensitive.