"Over there, there's friends of mine"

One thing that is long overdue is a post about some of the people I’ve gotten to know during my time here, other than NakedLady.

Obviously there have been many, many people I’ve met. There’s GrizzlyBear, who is a very grumpy Frenchman that I have to have a meeting with every morning; he can never “accept ze situation” & has a habit of dropping his pen onto his desk when he’s annoyed. There’s Senor who insists on talking to me in Spanish, as if trying to learn some French wasn’t enough!

*Blimey, NakedLady has got a hot friend with her, I so hope that they get naked together!*

There’s the Yorkshire boys who are sub-contractors working for us. Their company is based in Dewsbury & their influence on me (combined with the most excellent Arctic Monkeys) has prompted the return of my Yorkshire accent a bit. Which is reet champion, I tell thee.

There have been several of our American colleagues coming & going too. One of these, SaltyBoy, deserves more than a passing mention. I never really befriended him or spent much time with him but he unwittingly bought much mirth to our lives. Mostly because he’s as thick as two short planks. I discovered this the first time I clapped eyes on him, allow me to elaborate…
When the Americans come they fly into Paris and then take the train down to Lyon. It has somehow become my job to venture into town, meet them at the station & bring them back to the plant. When SaltyBoy came he arrived at Part Dieu (the station) before anyone had told me he was coming. So I went down to the Metro & made my way to Part Dieu, I had no info about what the guy looked like just his name so I had told his boss to tell him what I looked like & what I was wearing. I also told him to make sure he came to the front of the station.
I arrived at Part Dieu some 30 minutes later & had a scout round the concourse figuring that an American with lots of luggage wouldn’t be too tricky to find amongst the French. No joy, so I made a sign with his name on it & stood like a pillock holding it up at the front of the station…for a bloody hour! I was now getting seriously pissed off, though I was temporarily cheered by the pretty young French girl who walked up & proclaimed “C’est Moi” prompting me to curse my limited French so I could have said “I wish”. Eventually I rang back to base in a huff & demanded some more info. 10 minutes later I received a call telling me he had a Marlboro bag. Great.
So now I had taken to walking around the whole of the station building brandishing my sign & scouring everyone’s luggage for some red & white. Eventually, after being there for an hour & a half, I spotted him. He was sitting down right at the very back of the concourse. I resisted the urge to smack him in the chops knowing that he had been here twice as long as I had. His explanation; “Gee, I thought this was the front, so I stayed here”
That evening 5 of us went to the restaurant next to the hotel, I had gotten in first & got us a table for 5 & 5 pints of lager. One by one my cohorts filtered in & took there seats till there was just one remaining. Being that it was a table to seat 6 the waiter had left one space unset, no placemat, and no cutlery. SaltyBoy walks in & sits himself down in that very space. From my position on the opposite corner of the table I spy him examining the salt & pepper pots. He looks up at me with salt in hand; “Flash, is this the salt?”
I nod.
He then proceeds to start tipping the salt into his beer!
“What on earth are you doing, SaltyBoy?” I ask incredulously.
“It makes it go down smoother”
At this point I just had to tell Merciless* about this; And between him & I we ripped him big time. As part of his futile defense he claimed, in his southern drawl, “I’m just a country boy” he was also heard to say later on; “If I can kill it I can grill it”

*Merciless is a fellow Brit that I have known and worked with for over 10 years. He has been referred to before in this blog by a much less complimentary name following his abhorrent behaviour toward me during a meeting once; I recall Shorty at the time suggesting I buy him a Christmas present specifically designed for the purpose of “fucking himself”, tee hee. Anyhow, Merciless has been in Lyon the whole time I’ve been here & we’ve gotten along fine. He even, without any mention from me, apologised for that incident in the meeting. That was back in December. His name is right on the button has he is a serious pisstaker, usually picking on the weakest member of the herd to make himself appear strong. Not necessarily a pleasant trait but it can be quite entertaining sometimes.

SaltyBoy’s finest moment came after he had left us. He phoned up his boss here from Paris, pleading desperately for some help. He was on a metro train & there was nobody else on it, it was all locked up & was in a shed somewhere! Marvelous, we’re still all amused by that now, a week later.

I wouldn’t actually consider any of these people to be friends as such. I haven’t finished yet though.

I would say I have made 3 proper friends, people whom I’d be happy to hang with outside the confines of work & who I hope to stay in touch with after I go back to England.
First there is NotZoBad, he is the plant manager & a really nice fella. His driving scares the crap out of me, some of the food he eats in the canteen has the same effect & he often makes me laugh out loud. I probably haven’t gotten to know him as well as I’d like to because of his position & how very busy he always is. He has made me feel very welcome here in his plant from day one.

Then there is ShutYourMouse. He has become my right hand man here in Lyon & he is constantly making me laugh &/or making me want to pull my hair out. He could compete for France in the Olympic moaning event was there such a thing. He speaks pretty decent English but with enough little mistakes to keep me smirking all day long. Hence his name; he’s forever shouting “Shut your fucking mouse!” It also tickles me when he says “up your hass”. When I first started getting to know him we had Flash’s English swear word of the day for him. Now he is extremely fluent in cursing, often to be heard bellowing “Arrgh cocksuckingcuntybollockstwatbastardwanker”. He’s a lovely guy & has a very sweet nature. I will miss him a lot when I go. He is also aware of this very blog & I hope he continues to read it when I’ve gone. Salut Superman!

Last but not least there is CunningLinguist. He is our translator here on site & he’s an all round great bloke (for a Frenchman!). He’s very clever, he often makes me laugh, he’s fond of a special smoke though we’ve yet to share a spliff, he takes the piss out of me as much as I do him & he can often be found committing fake acts of violence upon me complete with Kung Fu sound effects. He also despairs of the verbal jousting that ShutYourMouse & I often partake in. We have a lot in common & it’s a bit of a shame that we’ve not had an opportunity to hang out outside of work. He also inspired me to construct a short story that I’ve not yet written about The famous chicken of Bourg en Bresse. We were both in tears at that one! Much like ShutYourMouse, he knows of World of Flash & I hope he becomes a regular reader.
I should also add that professionally he has been an immense help to me, as he was last week when he gave me a lift into town for my illicit rendezvous.

I really am going to miss these guys when I return home, which is now only 10 days away. I plan to have a gargantuan piss up next Thursday night & if any of them don’t attend I will take a large blunt instrument to them & shove it dans le cul!

By the way NakedLady & her friend let me down. Merde!

"Talking to the SongBird yesterday"

I am so ready to go home. Back to the grey skies & drizzle. Back to the dullest town in the world. Back to the day to day drudge of my normal life;
I’m fed up with all this now, but I am most definitely not fed up with Lyon.

The fact of the matter is I don’t see Lyon anymore. I have now had my final weekend in this beautiful city & I really enjoyed the rare opportunity to actually go into the city.
J’adore Lyon.
The weekend was, as always, frightfully cold but the sun has been shining & I thoroughly enjoyed walking around the streets. The wonder of the place has not diminished one iota, it’s just I rarely see it anymore. Saturday was spent wandering round all the usual haunts; Bellacour, Vieux Lyon, The wobbley bridge over the Saône, the Smoking dog, etc. And it was fabulous. I really am going to miss this city. Isn’t it strange that one can form an attachment to a place, to a collection of concrete, stone & glass.
These days though I rarely feel like I’m living in this glorious place. I wake, we drive to work where we remain for at least 12 hours, we drive back to the hotel. Occasionally we’ll go to the old town in the evening for a meal but even then the only sights to see are the inside of a tunnel & 100 yards of familiar cobbled streets. I think this is why I find myself so homesick. That & the need to be around the people whom I care about.

Sunday started out much the same. A beautiful full English breakfast in The St James pub followed by a pint or 3 whilst watching Sunderland scramble a draw against Spurs. I then had a gentle stroll up to the Smoking Dog where I planned to drink a bit more beer, read the paper & then watch the Manchester City vs Charlton game. It wasn’t long after kick off when my plans started to change. For the first time in a long while I am loathe to go into any detail for fear of reprisal. Maybe a commenter could come up with a theory as to what happened next?

During my movements on Saturday, I set the wheels in motion for a plan. A plan to do something that I’ve always fancied doing but have never got around to doing. This plan came to fruition on Monday & deed has been done. All will be revealed in good time. Perhaps a commenter would care to hazard a guess as to the nature of said plan?

Flashy’s coming soon, though I’d still like more folk to come in their finery.
Also I’d like to apologise for not having been round other blogs recently, it’s a damn tricky business, I tell thee. I miss your lives & I hope you are all well.

"There'll be times when my crimes will seem almost unforgivable, I give in to sin because you have to make this life liveable"

Anonymous was right, I am a tart!

"I saw a lady & she was naked, I saw a lady she had no clothes on"

Yes, to my delight, I stumbled into the waking world this morning to find NakedLady parading herself again. I involuntarily blurted out; "Yay! NakedLady!" This time she was totally starkers in front of her window for about 15 minutes. She was wonderful. She even covered herself in lotion for me, gently applying it across every inch of her bare flesh. Oo-er. I kept watching until she was fully clothed then I skipped off to breakfast.

NakedLady's reappearance was quite fitting really because this week my head has been full of sex. Which has been frustrating in a most pleasant kind of way. No details but the events of the weekend combined with the increasingly hot flirting that's been going on with somebody really sexy & sensual has got me all in a bit of a state. And there is no sweet release on the horizon. Still, I should imagine Nice will be truly thankful next friday.

Unless any of you chicks fancy a weekend in Lyon?

"Just banging tunes..."

Before I get to the gist of today's offering may I just say thanks for the smashing piccys that are coming in for the "red carpet" &, to gee up those of you who have not sent one in it, Don't be shy; Get them in!

Whilst I have been in exile over here in France I have been pretty much immune to the tsunami of hype that I'm told has accompanied the arrival of the debut album from Britain's new favourite band; Arctic Monkeys.
I did however hint to Temper Tantrum that the CD could be a nice birthday gift from The Boy. She seemingly agreed & The Boy proudly gave me said CD as a prezzie.
So, 10 days in, what do I think?

I think that it's abso-chuffing-lutely bloody brilliant. I have been able to listen to nothing else. I read the band described as "a missing link between The Smiths & The Streets". I couldn't agree more. I adore the album. Anyone who hasn't succumbed yet should give it a go, I'd be very surprised if it disappointed.

It's actually one of 3 new CDs I have obtained recently. Not having the ability to download has meant going back to ye good olde record shop from day's of yore. The other 2 are The Strokes' "First impressions of earth" which I've found mostly uninspiring so it won't stand a chance against the lads from Sheffield when it comes to my listening time & "Amber" by Clearlake which I got on Saturday & has sounded pretty good on first listen. Clearlake will get a good chance eventually because they are a band I really like, but for now...

"Put on your dancing shoes you sexy little swine..."

"You watch your former lovers growing old"

Another weekend at home; another heroic intake of alcohol.

Friday was just a mellow chilled out evening, just Nice & I hanging out.
Saturday was a day for The Boy we went over to Northampton to have a snoop round the shops. We ended up getting 4 new games for the X-box. All were pre-owned & as cheap as chips so it was a bit of a result. Nice joined me for a couple of hours in the evening.

Sunday, however, was where all the action was. The Boy & I endured an hour & a quarter in church which was pretty grim but after that it was time for the party. As we waited outside the church for Reckless et al to come out I spied Monochrome Baby. For the first time in nearly 14 years. I caught her eye & said a cheery hello. She said nothing, she dismissed me with a forced half smile then quickly turned her now sneering face away. Fine, be like that!

Her reaction towards me had made it so much easier for me to mock her. The years have not been kind to Monochrome Baby. She looks at least 45 to 50 instead of the 36 that she is. She really does look old, encouragingly so. Myself, Reckless & Funny Dance all felt pretty good about how we look for our age after seeing her.
She did, all those years ago, used to be such a pretty thing too. Now she looks gaunt & haggard. The only thing that reminded me of the girl I once loved was the 1988 hairstyle that she still sports. According to my sources she has never had any other style during all those years.
I've noticed over the years that some people grow into their looks, I count myself among these actually. Not that I reckon myself to be a hottie or anything, just that I feel comfortable with the way I look & realize that I'm not actually hideous as I'd always led myself to believe.
Poor old Monochrome Baby has gone the other way, laughing? Moi?
Au naturellement!
One last thing about her before I move on, she may well have the most appropriate blog name I ever did come up with! (Even if I did steal it from the title of a song I wrote about her many moons ago)

Being that I had no major plans for the rest of the day I decided I'd have a few beers & get a bit merry. When we could take the party no more, Reckless, Dream Girl & I retreated back to mine with all our respective kids. There Dream Girl & I set about the bottle of apple schnapps that the rather smashing waiter in Lyon's finest Indian restaurant had given to me on Thursday. Poor old Reckless was driving so no booze for him.
As the day drew on Dream Girl & I were getting pretty smashed. Lucky for me that Temper Tantrum had relieved me of The Boy by then. Soon Nice joined us, her & I were going to the pub to watch the footy & the guys were going back to Northampton.
Dream Girl had other ideas though, she thought we should all get smashed & they should stay the night. Reckless took some persuading but eventually came round to the idea. He & Nice went out to score some gear & buy more booze, while Dream Girl & I drank even more.
By the time Reckless & Nice had returned Dream Girl was at passing out point. This gave me lots of opportunities to smack her about with a pillow & to pour water all over her! Hurrah, the fun never stops round Flash's place. To her credit, Dream Girl did pull herself back round & we continued to drink, smoke, chatter & laugh for the rest of the night.

I think we all had some degree of regret at 5 this morning when we all had to get up. Nice had to be at work for 6, I had a plane to catch & the guys had to get back to Northampton for all their morning stuff.

Something else happened over the weekend, but sadly it has been classified in true X files style as "Tell no one".

"He buzzes like a fridge"

So in response to a comment from the lovely Ka, I feel the need to clarify my position on drugs.

I like drugs.

There, I've said it. Actually, I make no bones about it & I never have. I have limits & I've always been very rigid in staying within those limits.

As I'm sure you all know, I'm rather partial to a spliff now & again. I don't consider myself to be a stoner, though I feel I maybe did cross the line a couple of years back which prompted one of my own personal 10 commandments to live by.
I like the way it makes me feel. What sucked me in, in the first place, was how it made me laugh uncontrollably. I love laughing, it's great, on a par with sex & wonderful live music as one of life's simple but fantastic pleasures. I also like how relaxed it makes me feel. I very much enjoy doing it in company. I've had many a smashing time with friends & loved ones where we've all been a bit (or a lot) stoned.

Then there's Wiz or Speed or whatever you people call it. Obviously I like the effects of wiz too but more often than not it's used as an aid for staying awake rather than for it's effects alone. I do like the effects though, the sensation of buzzing, the feeling of hyperactivity, etc.

Then there is my own personal favourite; E. I bloody love Ecstasy, it makes me feel wonderful. There's the buzz of wiz but with a wonderful feeling of well being & a massive amplification of feelings of love to all around. I'm sure I've made my feelings about E pretty clear in the past. Obviously there are some negatives you have to weigh in to the equation. I have been known, once or twice, to have complete memory blackouts whilst under the influence of E. One time, several years ago, myself & my posse went to a gig at the Planet in Coventry to see the the Wannadies. Now I remember the journey to Cov, I remember dancing about before the band, I remember Vodka slush puppies ( Yum!), I even remember accidently seeing my ex-wife's very attractive friend naked through a crack in her bathroom door when we'd gotten back to her place but I have absolutely no recollection of The Wannadies whatsoever. I'm told that they came on & played a good little set but I never bloody saw them. Their appearance that night was not recorded in my brain. It was most odd.
This has reminded of another E-related memory loss story. Twas the first night of my first ever London Baby! weekend. It's A London Thing & I had several beers inside us & I'd been introduced for the first time to KindaPoshLoadsaDosh. He had word that I had some pills, so we decided to have them that night & he'd get some more the next day, which he never did. Anyhow, much later we retired to his gaff. This was a top floor apartment in the centre of London which he shared with his very hot cousin. We landed there in the early hours & I was shown my bed for the night. The next thing I know, I'm in the hallway outside the apartment wearing just my boxers. I was quite alarmed by this & I also desperately needed a pee, which I assume was the reason I had ended up where I was. One E addled drunk in an unfamiliar flat in the dark trying to find the loo! I had obviously got through the wrong door. I suppressed my need for a pee after discovering that there was nowhere to go. I had gone up & down the lift several times but the whole place was too plush, the lift was carpeted so I knew it was not the done thing to pee there. The other problem I had was how to get back in. My inate politeness was forbidding me from banging on the door of the apartment in the early hours because these people were essentially strangers. So I sat outside the door in my underwear clad state & waited. I drifted in & out of sleep until finally several hours later I heard noises from within. I timidly knocked on the door & was greeted my the vision of the hot cousin wrapped in just a towel. I explained what I thought had happened & she welcomed me in amid scenes of much mirth. While they laughed, I peed.
Obviously with E there is a potential danger of popping one's clogs. However, I liken it to playing Russian roulette with one bullet & a couple of million chambers. They are odds that I'm happy to gamble with.

I have occasionally had acid / LSD. I do like it but it's unpredictable & I'm not mad keen on the amount of time the effects stay with you.

So to Cocaine. It may surprise you that I have only done coke about 6 or 7 times. I like it, it makes me buzz & it gives me a feeling of extreme confidence. This, in an ego-maniac like me, is not always a good thing! To be honest though, I've often felt a little disappointed by Coke. For the amount of money it costs I always expect it to be much better than it is. This last occasion I think the vast amounts of Tequila I consumed nullified the effects of the coke anyway. That's not to say I've never had a good time with it, the reason why I got some in for my birthday was because of the blissfully wonderful New Year's eve I had on it ( & because I couldn't get any E).
Ther is one other appeal to Coke that shows me up to be a very shallow individual. It holds a kind of bizarre romanticism. The rolled up 20 pound note & the pureness of the white powder against the mirror. This is what rock stars do.
I know that is stupid & wrong on many levels but if I can't be honest here there's little point in having this blog.
The major risks with Coke are only really associated with regular use & like I say; I use it very, very sparingly.
So, in answer to Ka's question; because I like it, simple as that.

I also feel the need to point out that I have never touched Crack or Heroin. The former holds zero interest to me & the latter simply scares the bejesus out of me. I have often said though that were I ever to be given 6 months to live on medical grounds that I would have a go then. Nothing to lose.

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I'm flying home later this morning, I have to go back again because Funny Dance & his brood are in town this weekend. The reason for this is the christening of The Early Birds, who incidentally had their first birthday on Wednesday. Reckless & Dream Girl are godparents which is cool. I bagged LeedsBoy for my godchild some 13 years ago.
Tonight Funny Dance is gonna pop round for a drink, a smoke, a chat & a play on the X-box. That is gonna be ace! We haven't just hung out for a very long time.
The christening has thrown up a very odd thing. One of the other guests is a very prominent figure from my dim & distant past. For the first time in nearly 14 years I shall be face to face with Monochrome Baby; My girlfriend of 4 years from 88 to 92 & the reason I left Wakefield & moved to Crapsville. It will be very strange to see her again, though I am kind of looking forward to it. I'll let you know how it went.

Keep the piccy's coming in for the Flashys folks, I've had a handful so far & by crikey you all look fine!

Oh, one more thing, I am 36 years old. My post title was not intended to deceive but it seems it had that effect. I'm sorry.

Right, I've got a meeting to attend & then a plane to catch.
Au revoir mes amis!