vendredi 3 avril 2009

I can see it but I can't touch it

What a day it has been. It's the quarterly meeting of the French sales team - never a meeting that goes smoothly. It's usually little more than a burning cross away from being a lynch mob....and it's usually me that gets lynched. Or shouted at, at least.

The thing is, you see, I represent HQ and they, being independent and all that, represent themselves. We have control over their activities and they (feel as though they) have little influence over us. They fight against this and they fight against me. Every step of the way.

Luckily, the ones who really hate me stay away. Well they do ever since I asked them to not come to the meetings. But hey. For every one of them that hates me there are two that secretly want me....he he.

Today, however, the meeting passed without incident. Well, I say without incident. One of them called me a 'pédé' - the French equivalent of 'faggot' or 'queer'. Which was nice. And one of them stormed out and sat in his car for the rest of the meeting. Beyond that, all went well.

So now I'm back on the train, heading away from the sun of the south to the joy of Paris and, ultimately, to get into a rental car and drive to Holland to see my lovely Irish-Dutch Friend. He tells me that there' ll be wine and cheese waiting for my midnight arrival. I'm very excited. I'll try not to bore him with tales of the Parisien.

The train is pretty full, what with everyone heading back to Paris for the weekend. Unfortunately, there are tourists on board too. Well, I say unfortunately, but it's only unfortunate for one of them. Which one? The little, fat American man who looks like a piano landed on him.

Thing is, the TGVs have automatic double doors that are prone to breaking down.

As I sit reading my book - Dirk Wittenborn's Fierce People, if you're interested - I can hear a holy kerfuffle coming from the door area behind me. Normally first class is kerfuffle-free, so I turn to have a look. To be nosey if you will.

The doors, it seems, have only opened halfway and then jammed. The American is on one side and his bag is on the other. Now, people are passing freely in and out of the door except for this guy. He's too round to get through, bless him. And his bag is too big to be squeezed through too. Alas, with the design of the train, he'll have to disembark, walk round, and get on again to get to his bag, but the train is non-stop to Paris....

The 'Chef de Train' arrives and asks what the trouble seems to be.

All I hear is the poor, unfortunate, fat American wail "I can see it, but I can't touch it". I hope he's talking about his bag....

If he's talking about anything else, I'd be amazed if he could see it, let alone touch it.

13 commentaires:

Daryl a dit…

Oh I am now laughing at the poor fat American ...

aims a dit…

I've known men like that. All I'm saying is - pitiful.

and

You've brought back some images that I have tried to remove from my brain for years! ARghhhhhhh!

Mike a dit…

KERFUFFLE -- i think i need to add that word to my vocabulary ...

Pure Poser a dit…

HAHA! That brings back good memories of Family Guy 'find your penis for a dollar!'

Ah no, seriously though, poor guy. I really feel for him. The embarrassment.

Hmhm, I tried typing that with a straight face, I really did.

Henry North London a dit…

Le pauvre americain, tant pis

Brings back to me something of the Thorn Birds

Do you want it Can you feel it etc

It got repeated recently, Ah nostalgia...

Margaret's Ramblings a dit…

I have been lurking around for a while but just wanted to say how much I am enjoying your blog. Like this one they usually hhave me laughing.

Keep it up (oops!!!) sorry

Margaret

Victor a dit…

Hilarious

Swearing Mother a dit…

Talking about bags, doors and trains, my son went back to uni recently and got on his train at New Street, put his bag on the overhead rack and sat down. For some reason he suddenly felt that he might have got on the wrong train so got off again to re-check the information board and whilst he was out of the train the doors closed and off it went with his bag on it.

We had a frantic call from a pay-phone (guess where his mobile was? Correct.) and we ended up ringing up his mate at Uni, asked him to meet the train and told him where the bag was.

He said OK, went to the Station at the other end and waited for it, got on the train when it eventually arrived and spent quite a long time finding the bag. Unfortunately he didn't notice the train doors were shutting.

Guess what happened next?

Lessons to be learned: Don't get off a train and leave your bag on it, don't leave your mobile in your bag, don't get trapped on a train that you don't want to travel on and don't be such a f*cking pillock.

Swearing Mother a dit…

Sorry about the rambling post, Travelling. Can't sleep so thought I'd tell you a story!

cb a dit…

Someone actually called you "un pede"?? That is totally rude!

travelling, but not in love a dit…

D, it was sad. Really. But hilarious...

Aims, sorry to do that to you...will try harder next time!

Mike, they'd love that on the west coast...

travelling, but not in love a dit…

Poser - I love Family Guy - I just never get to see it out here :-(

Henry - the Thorn Birds? You big old poofy boy you.

Hi Margaret! Lovely to see you here - I love it when lurkers reveal themselves (well, not reveal but you know what I mean ;-) ...)

Victor - I thank you...

travelling, but not in love a dit…

Sweary - you really should get back to blogging with tales like that. fabulous!

CB - it's not rude, it's effing offensive is what it is!