Thursday, July 12, 2007

the hours

A figure appeared from around the corner. It was the waiter from earlier. ‘I thought I heard voices’, he said, ‘but it is only you’. ‘That was my inner monologue’, I told him. ‘Don’t try and be intellectual, you are english’, he replied. ‘You were talking to yourself’. ‘Actually’, I began to explain, ‘I was writing my blog’. ‘Like I said’, he responded, ‘you were talking to yourself’. I sighed. ‘So, you are the famous woman who moved to the north to give up work, buy an enormous house, hand over her childcare to the au pair and then write a book about how crap her life is…’ ‘Well’, I began, ‘there are a few of us, we’re a kind of literary community, like Bloomsbury’. The waiter did that kind of French look that you can’t really describe in English. ‘Doomsbury more like’, he said. ‘No wonder Virginia Woolf drowned herself when she moved to the country if she had people like you for neighbours’. I looked out over the sea. Now that would really get the book sales going, I pondered. 'In France we describe rich people who act like they are poor as BoBo' he explained, 'so it looks like there are bears in the north after all', he laughed. 'Don't try and be funny, you are french', I reminded him. ‘I heard a rumour that wife in the north is really a man’, said the waiter. ‘I think that rumour is about me actually’, I sighed. He looked me up and down for a moment. ‘I can see why they might say that’, he nodded. I gave him a bit of a hard stare. ‘Sorry about that confusion yesterday with Brian’, I said. ‘That’s OK’ said the waiter. ‘He was not in the sea very long and the Mediterranean is nice and warm, not like the North sea which is, how did you put it in your blog, 'cold and dark and foggy and menacing and which lies before you bleakly and darkly featureless and never ending, reminding you of the endless hours and months and years of your life''. I was very impressed he was able to quote from my blog but my warm rosy feeling of satisfaction was interrupted. ‘Oh God, I'm depressed now’ said the waiter. 'I don’t think I can go on’, and he threw himself over the side. ‘Well’, I thought, ‘the French may be intellectual but at least an Englishman would have had the decency to commit suicide the other side of the boat so as not to splash my laptop! Suddenly I realised I had to put such thoughts aside of course as an overwhelming sense of the urgency of the situation grabbed me and I realised I had to write down this conversation for the blog before I forgot it, so I went back to my typing with a sigh.

17 comments:

Flowerpot said...

But of course, Rilly, writing must always come first...... Rule Number One. Keep your agent happy - and us of course...

enidd said...

enidd loves your doom and gloomsbury, rilly.

ziggi said...

your French is so good! Tres bien!

mutterings and meanderings said...

Rilly darling, spent your advance on a boob job and gte some wax strips ...

lady macleod said...

LOL totally right action, back to the blog. Cheeky waiter.

Marianne said...

Rilly, I feel very guilty about starting that rumour. I have come to see that you are actually a lovely, sensitive woman. Keep on blogging and I will keep on laughing.

rilly super said...

flowerpot darling, I'm glad you understand the pressures we're under

Rill thanks enidd for her kind words and wonders why she didn't realise 'gloomsbury' was a much better word than 'doomsbury', sigh

ziggi, murky buckets, as they say in the south of france

M&M, perhaps I should take your advice dear, sigh. Where do you go for those things darling? ;-)

me ladyness, quite right, the waiter can wait..

marianne, well, I suppose the light was bad when you first saw me like it was last night, sigh

I think I will have to come home soon, sigh. Tilly and Milly have been to see Harry Potter and they told me a joke that the au pair told them: Q: what's wooden and often found between Harry Potter's legs? A: Emma Watson, sigh...

Lord Straf-Baghdad said...

Great stuff, RS but do you think you might put the text in paragraphs so this old fuddy duddy can read it? :)

The thinker said...

If you were talking to yourself rilly, does that mean you have a voice recognition program that you use to write your blog? They're great, aren't they? It leaves your hands free for a drink and snack.

@themill said...

Do they do sex change ops in the south of France?

dulwichmum said...

You of all bloggers dear heart are never talking only to yourself. Rilly speaks and we all take note. You are fab Rilly.

Lizzie said...

Crikey sweety! Now I'm so confused..

Lizzie said...

PS It doesn't usually take much ...

mind the gap said...

hehehe - I found your blog from enidd's and I haven't stopped laughing since. Definately a better alternative to the other wife!

The Secretary said...

Rilly, I hope that awful French waiter was pushed rather than jumped......how rude...

The thinker said...

Rilly - I just flew over to tell you I've nominated you for a most prestigious award ... When you can tear yourself away from all those french waiters and rich yatch owners perhaps you'd like to pop over to check it out.

http://sidmouth-town.blogspot.com/2007/07/is-it-oscar-is-it-emmy-no-its.html

rilly super said...

lord straf etc, yes, actually, this point has been made before and I can no longer justify lazy editing as style, sigh

thinker, the best voice recognition system would be a secretary who would not only leave my hands free fot a drink and snack but fetch them for me in the first place, sigh

@mill, no idea my dear. I'm sure a few minutes on google will find what you are looking for in a suitably desirable location...

dulwichmum, oh but that were true, sigh. You always say the loveliest things..

lizzie, you and me both dear (on both counts)...

mind the gap, thanks for dropping by ( enidd is really cool isn't she?) and I certaily hope you come by again soon

secretary, well, and no doubt he will complain about being in this blog too but serves him right for being a bit foreign,almost as foreign as those northerners...

thinker, I shall be right over...