Tuesday, 21 August 2012
"Addicted to love..."
I have been stuck without internet in France before and in order to get on-line I have had to take Hubby to the nearest McDonald's to use their WiFi as it is the only place in the area that seems to have a signal.
I knew that Ted's owners (yes, were looking after Ted, the star of Surfing in Stilettos) had internet, so this time I'd be able to sneak on-line while Hubby dozed in the sunshine, oblivious to what I was doing. All would be well.
France Telecom, however, had other ideas. After five years of waiting, the hamlet was finally being upgraded to broadband and for one full week there would be no internet or phone lines. All the road between the hamlet and the telephone exchange was being dug up, leaving me without connection. Onto plan B. I produced my dongle. The dongle wouldn't connect. It had gone on strike in a show of comraderie with French Telecom. That left only one option - McDonalds and a forty mile trip. Normally, Hubby doesn't mind going too much because he gets to have a McFlurry, but let's face it, a McFlurry doesn't last too long and by the time I have finished attempting to speedily reply to my emails, Hubby is ready to go.
After much pleading Hubby took me to McDonalds. He was not as we say a 'happy bunny' about it, grumbling that I was on-line all the time in the UK and surely a few days off wouldn't hurt. He was adamant that the internet is bad for my health and mind.
"It'll make you forget things, you know. It's bad for your brain," he grumbled en route. I ignored him.
Hubby was finally seated with a large McFlurry in front of him and I set to work. I admit I got carried away somewhat and in trying to schedule tweets, read posts and answer emails I completely lost track of time. By the time I looked up Hubby was standing by the window staring at the children's slide. Maybe he fancied a go on it. No, he was fuming. I recognised the signs. He was standing in that way that indicates huge annoyance. It was time to go. I slammed the computer lid shut, grabbed my handbag, the laptop bag, the computer, the mobile phone and got up to go. I grabbed the tray containing the empty McFlurry pot, some serviettes and a coffee cup (I'd been so long he's even bought a coffee and I hadn't noticed) and threw it quickly in the bin, walking up to Hubby with a cheery "I've finished!"
We headed out to the hire car, Hubby stomping off crossly. We got to the car where Hubby glared at me.
"What?" I asked tetchily. I hate it when he stares at me like that. I feel like a child in the Headmaster's office.
"What have I done now?"
Hubby held his hand out. I looked at him blankly. His lips set into a straight line. I shrugged my shoulders.
"What do you want? My mind reading skills are below par today."
"I don't have the car key. You had it. I have my handbag, the laptop, the mobile and a large plastic bag containing salad from the supermarket that you made me carry in so it didn't get warm in the car."
"Come on, hand it over. I am not in the mood for your stupid games."
"I can assure you, I am not playing any games. YOU had the car key. Where did you put it?"
Hubby looked cross and a little confused, certain I was messing him about. You could almost see his brain whirring as he tried to recall when he had last seen the key.
"I put it on the tray when I went to buy the coffee," he announced eventually.
I gulped. The key must have been hidden under the serviettes. How would I get out of this one? "Okay, it'll still be on the tray then," I replied. "I'll dash back in and get it.
I left Hubby by the car and raced back inside to explain to the staff that I had rather stupidly thrown away the car key, requesting I look in the bin bag for it. I knew which bin I had thrown the contents of the tray in. There was rapid fire conversation and much shrugging of shoulders. Yes, you've guessed it, one of the staff had cleared away all the bin bags from the bins and they were now in a giant skip. Which bag contained the car key? There was only one way to find out. I had to trawl through all the bags until I found the key which needed a jolly good wash, as did I.
It was in bag number four by which point I never wanted to see another McDonald meal as long as I lived.
Back at the car I found Hubby seated on a wall. He wrinkled his nose and raised his eyebrows in a knowing manner.
"Told you the internet was bad for you," he announced in a jovial manner.
Don't you hate it when they are right?
*dustbin or bin = garbage can or trash can
Posted by Carol E Wyer