Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
I hadn't been expecting this, €200? What for? Local taxes! Are you serious? I had already
paid the taxes on the thing! Are you lining your pockets? Eh? Planning on running off with
Medusa over there and setting up some kind of Stalin theme park? It's disgusting...
'Merci,'
I said, and gave him €200. If someone had told me that morning that I could just
pay money and this nightmare would be finished I'd have taken it. I was just grateful that the
whole thing was finally over, but I didn't saunter out, or skip; I didn't want to rub it in the
faces of those still waiting. I wished them luck -
'Bon courage'
- and as I was leaving I no-
ticed for the first time that this office wasn't just for car registration but for gun licensing too
- and I'll bet they were getting better treatment.
Natalie texted me as I made my way home exhausted by the stress of it all, but also quite
jubilant.
'Can you get some eggs for lunch?'
Bloody hens.
Eggless hens or not, I was still determined to enjoy my triumph and as I stepped out of the
car brandishing official documentation like it was a Bill of Rights to be greeted by a happy,
smiling family, I felt like a returning hero.
'Well done!' Natalie said and then she paused. 'What do you think of Irish setters?'
Clearly she'd thought that this was the perfect time to broach the subject of further animal
adoption; that my defences would be rendered so low by the monumental effort that she could
just sneak this one in. Luckily for me there was still some of my natural defence system that
hadn't been eroded by the
fonctionnaires
.
'Are you mental?' I raged. 'We already have...'
'Her name's Lulu, she's eighteen months old and...'
'What the f—'
'Just think about it that's all. She looks lovely. I've got some pictures of her. Let's have some
lunch, we can talk about it later.'
There was, of course, no chance I could concentrate on anything else now. Another dog?
What's the matter with her, does she not have enough poo to pick up? I started to pace up and
down, the stress of the morning finally getting to me and bringing on the full Basil Fawlty
mode. I wasn't angry, just really disturbed, eyes darting all over the place - 'gloriously dis-
combobulated' as a friend once described me. Natalie, however, knew how to distract me,
take my mind off the upset and set it a new challenge.
'Maurice can't find his Nintendo,' she said, like it was a pre-arranged buzz word to snap me
out of hypnosis.
And that was it. I didn't sleep, I didn't even rest and all thoughts of Irish setters with the
names of strippers left my head as my OCD kicked in and I couldn't do anything else until
the Nintendo was found and all would be at peace. It was two in the morning when I found
it, put it in Maurice's room and finally hauled my empty husk of a body into bed.
