Thursday, December 8, 2011

By Hook or by Crook

I have reached the point of complete desperation. Also, I'm completely hung over.

There is a creepy middle aged man with a comb over who comes into my cafe from time to time and has in the past asked if I might be interested in being a translator for his association for old people. Supposedly, they help with organizing activities and outings as well as keeping families in touch, which is from time to time an international affair. He's such a weirdo and so creepy I mainly try to keep my distance from him and serve him his espresso with a wide bubble of personal space, but, as I've said many times on this blog, desperate times...

So several days ago I opened a dialogue with him about possibly working for his association and, essentially, getting a work contract out of him. He seemed optimistic and invited me to a meeting last night at the old person head quarters to discuss the contract. So, hopeful for my future in France, I braved the rain, cold, and unknown and found my way to the office. ...Where I sat for 2 hours listening to old people talking about their lives and families and daughter in laws and heard not A WORD about a contract. Finally I said I was late for something and escaped.

Frustrated and feeling hopeless about my French future, I let TMI drag me to a fellow wine student's birthday party. The activity for the night was presenting bottle after bottle of champagne, white, rosé, and red wines hidden in a sock so the experts could taste and then guess the region, year, etc of the bottle. Since I'm completely ignorant to all that I just drank everything put in front of me until I realised I couldn't stand for nausea. I stumbled into the bathroom and, sitting sick on the toilet, shed a few tears for my state of embarrassing drunkenness. I wish I could say it was the first time it happened to me, but man, dating a wine student is dangerous. Despite my state TMI got me home and into bed where he took off my shoes, watered me profusely, and cuddled me through my sick night. -And morning headache.

That boy loves me. I mean really loves me. It makes me happy even while sitting here at work with a hangover.. and motivates me to never give up on getting this visa figured out. Next time comb-over comes into the cafe I'm getting the contract out of him by any means necessary! ...and now, another aspirin.


  1. the worst hangovers are when you mix. but it sounds like you still had a good night, and you have a boy who loves will figure it all out -promise!

  2. Wow, you are a woman who knows what she wants and is going to get it by any means necessary. Don't give up.


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