Kelli, I'm dedicating this post to you. You know why.
So here we are. A lovely sunny afternoon. The birds are singing, bees are buzzing, the stream is gurgling quietly in the background. All is well with the world. But no. Youf is back. Loud. Its ugly whooping happy voice disturbing my uptight neurotic space. Enough!! Out I go, armed with a gift of embarrassing proportions: an outsize courgette from the garden.
I stroll towards the bridge - yelling my Bonjour in a drunken adolescent parody. The looks on their faces repay what is (again) an agony for me. So, "let's get to know each other better", I say. And plonk myself down beside them. What could be worse than that? The goddam woman won't go away! And now she's presenting a gift. Which is roundly rejected by one and all. Of course - they have gardens bursting with similarly phallic objects.
I strike up a conversation - find one is an apprentice plumber, the other two at school. They are called Melvine, ? and Julien. Dam, I've already forgotten the plumber's name. The other two looked hilariously sheepish, unable to get a sentence out.
But suddenly the bridge has lost its charm for them and they quit the scene.
1 point pour Rebecca
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