Now I've always thought that my lovely followers came in all shapes and sizes, but this week I got a surprise. It would seem that one of them doesn't quite fit the mould; he says his name is Charlie, and I gather that he and his wife have moved to France, and have been having some trouble fitting in!
I'm sure he won't mind if I share his letter with you!
Oi Sharon,
I’m a blogger and I’ve got me own guest cottage too. Bought it when I sold the cab last year. Not as posh as yours but it was cheap as chips. Not much more than the price of the cab it was, and what with the cash from the maisonette in Essex we’re livin the life of Riley down here. It needed a lick of paint but my Gladys is very handy round the house and she’s done a luvly job. We speak the lingo too. When me and the missus traded South End for the Costa del Sol I really got into parlez vooing. The locals love it when you make an effort. Always practised me lingo when I got Johnny foreigner in the cab “‘Ere gov no passamos al sud de la riviere pour les French” or “voulez vous allez el routo touristico pour el aeropuerto?” It’s a gift innit?
I’m a blogger and I’ve got me own guest cottage too. Bought it when I sold the cab last year. Not as posh as yours but it was cheap as chips. Not much more than the price of the cab it was, and what with the cash from the maisonette in Essex we’re livin the life of Riley down here. It needed a lick of paint but my Gladys is very handy round the house and she’s done a luvly job. We speak the lingo too. When me and the missus traded South End for the Costa del Sol I really got into parlez vooing. The locals love it when you make an effort. Always practised me lingo when I got Johnny foreigner in the cab “‘Ere gov no passamos al sud de la riviere pour les French” or “voulez vous allez el routo touristico pour el aeropuerto?” It’s a gift innit?
Been making a few fowpars down here so I’m writing to thank you for all them tips you dish out.
That bit on French kissing and the warning about the bin men sauvayed our jambon I can cha cha. I’m not into snogging wiv the bin men you understand but, until I read your blog, I was a bit flummoxed on French kissing.
That bit on French kissing and the warning about the bin men sauvayed our jambon I can cha cha. I’m not into snogging wiv the bin men you understand but, until I read your blog, I was a bit flummoxed on French kissing.
When I was a lad it was a nudge nudge, wink wink sort of thing. So, when we went to the village newcomers party I thought I’d show a bit of the bulldog spirit and I tried it on with the Mayor’s wife; thought it might help me get me bar license. She wasn’t best pleased. In fact she made a bit of a fuss. Funny that innit?
Thought the mayor was going to shut me gite down. He wasn’t happy at all. Thanks to my Gladys things got smoothed over and we’re still in business; she’s so good at that diplomacy thing. Don’t know what the flippin’ heck she did but it worked.
So, thanks to you, I think I comprendy; you just give a peck on the cheek right? Nothing sloppy; just a peck.
But you know what’s got me flummoxed now? Which blinking side do you start on? And how many pecks on the cheek do you have to go through? Round here it seems to average four at a time so, if there are a lot of folk at the party, it can take nearly an hour to say hello to everyone. Valuable drinking time wasted I say.
Now then; about those bin men of yours. How right you are on the naming and shaming bit. Blimey. I don’t want to go into the details but when I was a cabby, being 12 hours a day at the wheel and all, a man needed comfortable underwear if you get my drift. So I had a lot of shorts as I think you posh ladies call 'em. Now, being as I’m retired an’ all, my Gladys decided to chuck a load into the blue poobelle. Guess what? I gets up the other morning to find all me old Y-fronts strung out along the fence. The shame of it. But what do you do? Where do you send old clothes. There ain’t no charity shops round ‘ere. Should have taken them to that brocante sale in Giverny.
Anyways you’re a real sport helping us out like that so I’ve got a tip or two for you.
Them wine bottles you chuck out. Going round the village at all hours dropping them off in ones and twos isn’t right for a woman of your position. I can see you’ve got a posh set up and I bet you’re worth a bob or two but let me tell ya, there’s money to be saved by buying wine in plastic boxes. Good stuff it is. Just as good as the bottled stuff. Some of it will make your eyes water but nothing a packet of Rennies can’t fix and there’s no messing about going to the bottle bank. And if you mix a bit of the red plonk wiv some sweet white you get quite a decent rosey. That’s what my Gladys likes anyway.
Them wine bottles you chuck out. Going round the village at all hours dropping them off in ones and twos isn’t right for a woman of your position. I can see you’ve got a posh set up and I bet you’re worth a bob or two but let me tell ya, there’s money to be saved by buying wine in plastic boxes. Good stuff it is. Just as good as the bottled stuff. Some of it will make your eyes water but nothing a packet of Rennies can’t fix and there’s no messing about going to the bottle bank. And if you mix a bit of the red plonk wiv some sweet white you get quite a decent rosey. That’s what my Gladys likes anyway.
So that’s it for now; I’m off to a town hall meeting. It’s nice getting into the local politics; I always took an interest when I was a cabby. It was Gladys idea really and she said it might help with me bar license. All toffed up she is. Even wearing a bit of perfume, must be ‘cos she’s seeing the Mayor
By the way you can call me Charlie. OK?
By the way you can call me Charlie. OK?
Ta ta for now..............Charlie
What can I say, except that I am flattered that such a distinguished character takes the time to read my humble blog. Maybe, if we're lucky, he'll write back again soon...
