Friday, July 11, 2008

Another virtual postcard


I’m in France. The sun is not shining today, and I have a terrible hangover so I just ate two double chocolate magnums and drank two double espressos. I start work tonight at five and I’m hoping to pull my head together by then for our jolly salsa evening. Right now I’m sitting in the bar in my sunglasses with Lucille and Seb, my fave colleagues, watching the Tour de France with one eye and the hot new chef with the other. Luckily I woke up cross-eyed this morning. Adrien, the animateur (events organiser), has just come in from the petanque court as it’s started properly pouring. His customers appear not to mind having a little beer instead of carrying on with their boules tournament. The animateurs actually seem to spend most of their time in the bar here. We’re not allowed to give anyone free drinks this year, but what do I care? They can’t fire me- I got a proper French contract.

The season has properly started and there’s a million people in the bar every night, with their disgusting children waddling up to the counter at 11.45pm with twenty-euro notes clutched in their fat fists demanding ice-creams and pringles and a never-ending stream of change for the bubble-gum machines and the fussball table. Fucking parent work 48 fucking weeks in the year and then when they’re absolutely forced to spend two fucking weeks with their revolting offspring they find that giving them more money than I earn in a week every day is an adequate replacement for, say, games, conversation, spending time together, remaining sober enough to even recognise the brat... Anyway. Yesterday we had a bucking bronco machine thingy in the bar and I had a go. I was amazing. I have thighs like steel. Plus I had the best cowboy hat. Having seen me thrown off a mechanical bull in a mini-skirt, the customers gave me many many tips yesterday.

The season has properly started and yesterday after we finished work at 2am we went down to Cocos, the shabby and tacky night club that we grace with our presence pretty much every night. It was ‘saisonier’ night so we got free drinks, and danced to crap house in the company of every seasonal worker, English and French, in the St Jean de Monts region. I was still wearing my cowboy hat (red with sequins) as I am a classy lady. And Steve (my boss) drove me there in his ‘decapotable’ (convertible) at about 130km/p/h with music blasting and me waving my hat in the air. See, classy.

The season has properly started and I’m now sharing my luxury apartment in the pool-house with Julien, who is wonderful and came with a telly, a microwave and Pro Evo on the play station. Suddenly my room has transformed from an oasis of calm to the place everybody comes to party. We just got through 32 bottles of rose wine in a week. Plus several of whisky and vodka. The campsite manager passed by as I was putting the recycling in the bins and I gave her a feeble smile. She has instructed the campsite security guards to write down what time we come home every night. Me and Julien usually give them the slip though, we know their ways only well.

A parcel arrived from Joey yesterday to general excitement. All the girls (and Julien) now have aqua nails. Best of all, Marlene and Lucille are using proper Vaseline as lipsalve. Just after I turned up, Marlene asked me if it what true that English girls put Vaseline on their lips. When I said yes, to try it out she reached into her handbag, pulled out a tube of strawberry-flavoured Durex lube, and smeared it onto her own and Lucille’s mouth. ‘Bit sticky’ was the consensus. So I promised to get them some from England- Vaseline in French just means generic lubricant. The girls send gros bisoux to Joey and so do I.

Well, I have to have my shower and paint my face into the mask of a dedicated professional. I broke my umbrella and the five metre walk to the toilets is looking seriously unattractive. I love you all and miss you all. Any one who wants to visit is extremely welcome. Especially my darling Joshua Robert, who I miss passionately already. Many kisses. Keep in touch. F xxxx

1 comment:

woodscolt said...

Glad you got it.

Did you like the hideous sunglasses?