Alfred Hitchcock was on the line; for new material.
He came in at midnight.
Like a human bon bon borne to the wind.
Relief washed over me as he made like a live miniature figurine at my door.
All 5ft 4 or him. Yes.
This means he’d actually fit on the couch on which he was meant to sleep. With armrests.
It also meant I could look down onto his head before he wielded the francophilic scythe. I had the edge, tallness-wise, should he decide to drive a sword through my cranium.
Cute he was, language barrier was as evident as his height, so we had to parlez-vous. To avoid too much confusion en masse.
‘Excuse me I am late, border control is up to merde.’
‘Pas de probleme,’ say I, cold lasagne in hand, holding eyes open with matchsticks, artistically arranged about my eyes.
‘You want tea?
He looked a little disgusted - even though camomile is my current midnight drink du jour - I’d momentarily forgotten he was Franch.
‘Ah oui, je m’excuse – le vin rouge. You like?’ [Mental note: any hour of the day, butter up a Franch Man with wine. As if this really needs mentioning.]
I pull out the vino tinto with the Diemers label.
What an incredible couchsurfing hostess I am.
‘….er….You like Oosh-share?’
He’s staring at my varied, talented CD collection.
‘What the dickens is Oosh-share?’ Oh. Usher.
‘Ah oui. Bien bien. He is un grand sex symbol.’
Not quite his vibe, sure. But Who’s Vibe Is It Anyway [Drew Carey?]
We mainly talked about why I don’t live near the airport, touching only briefly on French cheese.
‘I don’t live there because I don’t run un, how do you say, pool pump warehouse? Also I pride myself on having only two eyes in my face, er, visage.’
The humour flew over his sweet little head and landed in Tunisia.
Turns out he’s a professional kite surfer and was en route to Mauritius to tear up the waves. Not my body, I was pleased to note.
Then bedtime. I don’t know what the fuck happened on my roof last night, but the day I have a perfect stranger over, my embassadorian skills, meant to be the pique of his experience, turn into an epique nightmare.
3:00am, a gavvy of fucken chipmunks? Lemmings? Bats with legs? Racoons? Giant rodents? Decide to do its own storming of the Bastille on my fucking ceiling.
I’m being literal here. Seriously, I wish I wasn’t.
Dead of night, millions of pitter patters of rodentile feet descended unto thee, through the medium of my farking roof.
They were shrieking, and mating and fighting and running amok, the poor Franch Man told me the next morning that he was terrified that they were ‘Criminales de la Barbarique’ or some such.
[Well china, you didn’t sleep with a breadknife under your pillow, didja? Sorry about the fleet of cretinous things on the roof though.]
‘No, apparently they were wild animals making hay above our heads, Monsieur.
Really really chuffed you weren’t a serial killer though.’
I thought he’d be the human Franch version of the Terminator, and instead all I need, it seems, is an Exterminator.
Putain merde.
31 comments:
Hiya Peas,
You know what? I reckon they were one of 3 things:
1. Donnerse rats that make their way into our dwelling uninvited during the (w)horrendously cold Jozi winter
2. F@cking mammoth pigeons that insist on nesting in one's roof
or 3. Cats looking for a place to shack up. ('scuse the pun).
Very please you weren't offed by the Franch Kite-surfer. Live to blog another day. You know those kite-surfing lads have the most delightful bodies?
All Hail ye!
I never got to see his boday, but I can only imagine :) teehee
You're right about the fucking roof dwellers. Never heard anything scurry over my roof before and it's actually slightly frightening - what the devil are they doing in there?
It could be the winter, which means another few months of this right? Eeek.
Imagination is sometimes better than the real thing! ;)
Well, I live in an old Jozi Suburb called Kensington in a house with Oregon Pine floor and pressed ceilings where the f@ckers attack our abode with vengence each winter.
For the last few years, prior to the proper winter chill we've called in the exterminator and covered every nook & cranny in our roof to keep the dodgy critters out.
Maybe you should get them in, just as a preventative measure?
Yeah that's not a bad idea - it's one thing them being on my roof, but if they got inside I'd....probably move out.
I'm going to ask the neighbours if they have the same issue, (we share a roof), and maybe we can do a group Rentokil operation or something.
PS: Your house sounds gorgeous! What I'd do for pressed ceilings :)
Ha,ha....he couldn't sleep because he was afraid of YOU
He thought that you were some strange tall amazon who was going to spike his tea, lock him up and go all Fritzel on his ass!
Rev - 'get all Fritzl on his ass'
hahahahaha
Yeah here I was thinking he was Le Terminateur, who came into my life solely to off me, and he was probably shitting himself!
'I shall not surrender! Like my country does repeatedly! I will put up my defence for ze Sud Africaine - she will not prevail!'
Peas - its the Parentals house, I'm just capitalising on the last few good years I can have the comfort of home. ;) It is a pretty darn rad house and I've lived there all my life.
Think your parquet flooring is pretty awesome.
Best you do a team extermination all at once. You wouldn't want to have to move out of your house you've so beautifully adorned with all your bric-a-brac.
P.S. Off the point and completely random: Please tell me you've heard Lily Allen's 'GWB(F@ck you very much) Track?
Hail - I have indeed! The woman has chutzpah, I do rather like her :)
Ah childhood homes - mine was pretty similar, old Victorian place - a wonderful house to grow up in. Enjoy it while it lasts :)
The main selling point for me to move into my place was the parquet. I love it! Just quite cold in winter :( (Hence the fluffy rug!)
Noisy roof shouldn't last too long.
If you've got rats or birds getting jiggy up there, wait til the cats find out - one nights of stalking, frenzied feeding and furry massacring and things should return to normal, albeit with the occassional furry bit or feather drifting off the roof.
That's a thought Rev - the dykes downstairs have like 3 cats, so maybe I should send them my way. Let nature take its course! :)
The only slightly intelligible thing I have to say about this post is: LOL!!!!
And its not even that intelligible. Hmmm...oh well. :|
Surprise, surprise...dykes who like pussy!
Secret - The only intelligent thing I have to say back is 'emoticon smile'
:)
:)
:)
teehee!
Rev - suprise surprise, you'll probably find they like carpets too :)
So, tell me, have they spied your..rug?
Chamomile is a rocking! With a sprinkalade of Eucalyptus honey? :)
So did he use your bathroom or what?
Leave any strange and floating hairs around in the shower? :P
Rev - not mine. That's for fucken certain :)
icepick - he was actually super considerate, folded up his duvets and left the bathroom spick and span. Was most relieved/impressed :)
...check the roof - Can never trust an unknown French man that lies about being a professional kite surfer.
icepick - maybe he landed one of his kites during the night? He used my roof as a heli-pad/kite-pad!
;)
Maybe he transforms into an abundance of little critters when the moon comes out...
icepick - oooh fantasy pumpkin-stories. I like I like.
Do you think he's still Franch? Or he's a multi-national rodent?
Fairytales - seeing as he's french, at midnight, does he turn into a garlic clove?
Rev - quick french joke:
Why do french people eat garlic?
................
So that blind people can hate them too.
TEEHEE!
PS: I'm half-french, so I'm allowed :)
He probably indulged in copious amounts of garlic, to ward off Vampire Peas and her horde of blood thirsty bats who fluttered impatiently on the roof whole night.
That blunt instrument we mentioned yesterday was a stake he kept close at hand in case he had to drive it thru your heart.
Now that sucks...heartache without the foreplay!
wahaha too funny. WHY don't you run a pool pump warehouse, I mean really, what kind of a couchsurfing host are you :)
po - didn't you know? I sell Kreepy Kraulys on the side! It's a pyramid scheme, you wanna join??
;)
haha
I've been to Tunisia. It was a bit non and depressing.
Mama - serious?? I heard it was very cool - well at least my Aunt said so. Too many camels?
Hilarious! Thanks for making me smile today - I thought I was the only one avec rats ze size of - uh - how you say - elephantines? in my ceiling.
sooo ... why was your bathroom left spic and span Peas?
time for another joke in answered reason ...
Where's the best place to hide your money from the possible serial killing kite surfing frenchman?
>> under the soap
mind you .. now i'm feeling a tad bad with you revealing you're half french so er...i take that back ;)
ps: some days i comment
every day i pea
read
Margot - oh me sheisse, you too? Look ti's good to feel that these cretophiles aren't targeting me only, but sorry they have started inching in on your roof too!
Fich! :(
frozen - hello my dear! Bless you :) haha, I've heard that one it's hysterical. French jokes and toilet humour is my favourite so please fire away - they're the best. Here's another one for yyou:
What's the difference between the French and toast?
..............
You can make soldiers out of toast.
teeeeeeheee ;)
righty ho then ...
here's me thinking good thing you didna tongue lock or anythings along the likes ... they not only smell bad but taste bad apparently too .. heeheee
A lion in the zoo was lying in the sun licking its rear end when a visitor turned to the zoo keeper and said, "That's a docile old thing isn't it?" "No way," said the zoo keeper, "it's the most ferocious beast in the zoo. Why just an hour ago it dragged a Frenchman into the cage and completely devoured him." "Hardly seems possible" said the astonished visitor, "but why is it lying there licking its rear?" "The poor thing is trying to get the taste out of its mouth."
eeeew .. ok bye for now ;)
sure he was not that bad, i mean after all you allowed him cushion space on your sofa ...
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