dimanche 20 octobre 2013
Pistols at dawn...................
I have told you already about a dealer here I call "Monsieur do not touch". He always has a stand full of items which, in my view, are not particularly special - but placed on his table he puts a huge label: "NE TOUCHE PAS".
On the odd occasion in the past that I have even dared to even hover a finger over an item he has boomed "NE TOUCHE PAS MADAM!" - and everyone in the vicinity stops and stares as if he's accused me of theft! I have even seen grown men cringe from his voice.
How he manages to sell anything (if indeed he does!)I will never know!
Once bitten, twice shy! Now I deliberately walk right past his stand without stopping and have vowed that if ever I was in a brocante desert and my life was in danger unless I bought something from him, I would still rather the buzzards finish me off before I gave that man a single euro!
This morning at the brocante I was having a coffee when "Monsieur ne touche pas" came stomping over to me.
" Madam....I have something in my van that I think will be of great interest to you - come now". So off I went like a lamb to the slaughter as he marched ahead.
He opened his van to reveal an 18th century "STYLE" dress made of silk and lace. "So madam" he leered at me "it is worth many euros to you, I think?".
Well that was it...pistols at dawn. He had drawn his duelling pistol and was pointing it straight at me .
" Mais non, Monsieur" I replied "it is not 18th century".
" You are wrong" he said, cocking his trigger.
I held his gaze and took my duelling pistol from its leather case. "The textile is 1950s, the lace is new and it was made very recently. It must be a theatre costume",
" Madame..you are wrong " he said again " This is an 18th century dress and you know nothing! How can you say it is not old?".
I cocked my trigger, looked him in the eye and told him " Monsieur....look at the back...it has a huge nylon zip and the underskirt is polyester".
Take that, monsieur. I had pulled my trigger and he fell - deflated!!
But as I walked away past his tables he finished me off with a parting shot and yelled "Madame..ne touché pas!"
Of course everyone stopped in their tracks and turned to look at me. I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me!
He had finished me off. He had won.
A la prochaine mes belles