Les Lumières, s'il-vous plaît?

Now just when I thought I would never again be woken up at 8 in the morning by frontdoor maintenance men in the Coronado who smell like smoke and try to have deep conversations about life with you whilst you secretly die inside because you wish you were still sleeping and not watching them pull hair out of your bathtub.... think again!  

Instead of waking up to my annoying ipod alarm this morning, I wake up to what I think must have been my doorbell (yes my "hotel" room or apartment or whatever has one) followed by the telltale maintenance knocks and the sound of your door being unlocked against your will, at which point you must force yourself to get out of bed so you don't look like a big lazy-poo even though its ridiculously early, and put on face to greet the, in this case, light bulb changers.  (which mine were working just fine thanks!)  Now while they work, it is usually convenient to be inside of an apartment with several rooms so you may retreat and do nothing by yourself -but alas this is France so I am sitting awkwardly on my unmade bed/sofa with my suitcase spilling out on to the floor (in all its American glory) clothing strewn about, including various undergarments, and the number one sign of a tourist.... my huge map of the city and metro stops spread out as far as the eye can see on my desk.  

I snap out of my room assessment daze when I realize he is talking to me again, in French!  Usually I just smile and say "oui" but I sorta understand him when he says "cinq minutes, je revais je dois blah blah blah blah ça va?" (five minutes, I'll be back...something something something, ok?).  At which point I brush my teeth, make my bed, realize I am wearing a see-through shirt, hide my bras, manage to drop my room key under my mini-fridge, retrieve the key, and close my suitcase.  Admittedly, I needed to wake up anyways..... merci maintenance man!