Well then. This, my dears, is exactly what I despise stereotypes. 
Upon moving into ma chambre de bonne, a random passerby helped as I struggled to carry my large suitcases through the doorway.
Later, as I was struggling with the lock on my door, a neighbor from down the hall heard me and came out of their apartment to lend a hand.
The following day, when I gave my landlord the security deposit, he thanked me and offered to let me leave any valuables in his apartment if I ever take an extended trip. 
Each time I forget that little piece of paper with the front door code during that first week, the guardian typed it in for me with a smile.
And yesterday, when I went to the laundromat for the very first time, an older woman showed me how to figure out the machines without me even having to ask.
Although I don't doubt that Parisians can be rude, life experience has taught me otherwise. They (like anyone anywhere) can be very, very nice. And helpful, too.
P.S. The photos above were taken in my 17th arrondissement neighborhood.
