Today just wasn’t my day. It started when I made a pot of coffee… without putting any coffee in the maker. Which means I made a pot of hot water. That just doesn’t have the jolt I’m after on a Monday morning.
After dropping Kaitlyn off, it was down to the grocery store. I decided to go to Geant, I’ve had my fill of Carrefour, thank you very much. I got there, went to get a cart, and didn’t have a euro. You need a euro coin to get a cart. At Carrefour, you can use a 50 cent piece, a euro or a 2 euro coin. Not Geant. So, I put all my bags back in my trunk and left. Or I tried to leave but some construction in the parking lot had me driving in circles. Once I found my way out, I stopped at the car wash to get the grime off my car. It takes Carte Bleu (the debit card here) Not this one. Broken.
Next stop? Where else – Carrefour.
At Carrefour, two of my biggest fears converged. My fear of cheese… and my fear of the man who walks around the store with a microphone babbling on and on about the specials of the day. (see Oct 3 entry for more on Carrefour) I once told Bill he did not need to fear going near Mr Microphone, because he doesn’t actually interview people. I haven’t told Bill that I later heard him doing just that. I’ve since worked at steering my cart clear of him. (just steering the cart is a whole different matter all four wheels turn in all directions yikes!)
So there I was, innocently wandering the store in something of a lack-of-java-induced-fog. Next thing I know, I’m standing by the cheese department and Mr Microphone is offering me a sample of the cheese on sale today. You have to understand, I am terrified of the cheese here. Most of it is pungent. Most of it is strong. Some of it is runny. Lots of it is of some blue variety. Lots of it is of the goat variety. Eat the rind? Don’t eat it? Bake it? Put it on crackers? Eat it alone? We’re talking about a food that in France is its own course at a proper meal… after the main course and before dessert. Intimidating. Scary. So there I am, standing in Carrefour with Mr Microphone pushing an unknown fromage on me. If I’d had my usual two giant cups of coffee this morning, I’d have peed my pants. Instead, I calmly took a piece of cheese (it at least showed no visible signs of mold or rind) and popped it my mouth. I chewed carefully. I smiled. It was pretty good. Then, Mr Carrefour tried to talk to me. Tres bien?! I pretended to still be chewing. I smiled and nodded and pushed my cart away. Crisis averted. Trouble was, I liked the cheese enough to be willing to buy it. But I hadn’t heard him say which one it was. I could either go back and ask him… or take my chances with a guess. Then my window of opportunity opened… another man came over the pa, overriding Mr Microphone. I asked what the cheese was. He showed me. I picked one up, thanked him and dashed off.
I plan on serving it tonight with dinner. After the steak. In a course all its own.