Mon Dieux

Yet again car trouble. I knew I was heavy on the clutch and shifting too much ( or so I have been told). The car refused to shift gears at the rotary that leads to my little town. I was going to the supermarket that is on the rotary. I didn't quiet make it into the circle, but cars could go around me. I put on my blinkers. A 30's something woman pulled her car over and the two of us pushed the car/ SUV through the circle and at the beginning of a hill where I knew I could park at the bottom.
She pushed and I steered and had one leg out ( tall wellingtons on) pushing. The car came to a stop and I ran around to the back and voila there was a man there pushing too...where did he come from?

I thanked them and glided downhill to a spot. I remembered that there was an old garage across the street from the supermarket so I headed there. I didn't have my phone on me so I was a bit up a french creek. The garagiste was an older man dressed all in one color, the color of a tequila sunrise. It's funny as I had noticed him at lunch at the local restaurant. I noticed him because of his colorful clothes. He turned out to be a bit of an old curmudgeon. He could not help me because he was alone,. He would not call my mechanic cause he has a feud going on with him. He imitated a machine gun spraying bullets if Monsieur Pupo dared come up near his garage. He would not call my insurance company for me ( they provide Service like AAA ) but I could not figure out why . He was highly amused by the whole thing. I begged him...please Monsieur , I am an American woman in France , help out an American ! That didn't work. We both agreed I should try crying next....as he mimicked someone crying. L gave up after about 10 minutes.

Around the corner is a mystery gas gas station. I went in there and asked the man if he spoke English....no! So I explained my situation. This man took charge and right away called my insurance company, arranged for the truck to come, and set the timing for me. He was so sweet, and also
comical. He was in his 40's, thin, kind of non description but with that absurdist sense of humor . I
was with him for about 40 minutes...he does not like the man in orange and says they fight all of the
time. A woman came into the station ( gas only there) and after hearing my dilemma told in an absurdist way by the gas stationist said to me....Bonne courage, pretty much have courage. Merci madame.

The Town truck driver arrived to take charge. He was kind of handsome in a smarmy dirty dealing with cars all day kind of way. He had the proud distinction of having but one tooth in the front of his mouth, no others that I could see. He was a gentleman though. He took my arm and steered me clear of the car, I was about to get hit by another car and he steered me away. I got into his cab with him and filled out the paperwork. Then he asked me to sign and I did.
I sign with a flourish, I make a big fancy C and a fancy L and B. He looked at me and said, in an exaggerated way...." Oh! Festival du Cannes! " ( meaning, I signed like a movie start signing
autographs. )  very funny !!!!
I hopped into his truck and he took me and my poor SUV about 2 blocks to a garage. There was a
 nice woman there that I spoke to for awhile, her name is Laure. They think that I blew out the clutch. The car will be there all while I am in Rome. It's going to be expensive, I fear. I await an estimate.

I walked home from there. ( about 3k) The town has all the decorations out...beautiful twinkling lights with french Christmas music playing out of the speakers at every corner.
I popped into a florist and bought a pretty pink blooming Christmas cactus for  my friend at the gas station. He was very surprised....I really appreciated his help.
I passed by the man in the tequila sunrise outfit 2 x. I stopped and stuck my tongue out him both times and he laughed.

It was an adventure. I spoke french the entire time...no English at all, no one spoke English, which was perfect for me. Everyone was so patient, even the crabby garagiste. He wouldn't help me but he
was having a good old time listening to me none the less. The french are so patient! I feel like I am a child just learning to speak. They gently correct me and wait in anticipation to see what's going to come out of my mouth next. I feel confident even though there are big gaps in my knowledge. I can express myself now in most circumstances. Also, people like to hear the American accent speaking French, people are charmed by it for some reason. I can't hear how it sounds so I can only surmise that it is similar to us hearing English spoken with a french accent...which I always think sounds good. My American accent brings big smiles to people faces, glad I could oblige.

I am also starting to notice that my English is getting all disjointed and structured oddly from hearing and speaking French all of the time now. Perhaps you can see it in this post. I notice it when I write to clients. I end many a sentence with....yes?...you'd like an estimate right away, yes? No one is supposed to know I am in france. Maybe they think I'm Canadian...ehhhh?

One more thing....before lunch, I stopped into the post office to mail something off. It was kind of big and not cooperating. The postman got down on the floor with me and wrestled the thing into the box and takes me through the whole thing , in french. We are luck in la colle. Out postmen are so nice. Generally in france the pos office is very difficult. They have short tempers and will not help you. It is something to be dreaded, but not in my town.