"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!