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| C’est la vie des rostbif ! |
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| Talk,
Madame X,
12 January 1999 | |
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The thing that is striking about London when you first want to have a look around is probably the tube. How modern, how colourful! The 'milk bottle business' is so clear and still why is it so annoying to travel by tube ? Well, if you manage to get a breathing space at rush hour, you're one of the lucky ones. I should even say you should be blessed to get into the train without being pushed onto the rails or stepped on a dozen times. Why do people still squeeze in when they can see from the board that the next train is in one minute’s time? Why is it also that these very people are mostly seven foot tall rugby players? I'm always so frustrated because I can see that grin on their face saying to me - "I’m going to squash you whether you like it or not ", or "what about a feel of my huge penis in your back you little chick" - or even better "check out my BO " or even all three at once.
I'm sorry but there is no way I can start or finish a good day by experiencing all this! I might be very French indeed here, but I'd rather wait for one more minute and not feel like I am in a straitjacket than having others hands above me, on me and beside me. Mind you I'm quite lucky not to share morning breaths that much as my short height gives me the privilege to differentiate fascinating kinds of armpit odours. I can now recognise a freshly cleaned one, a sweaty one hidden by deodorant, a natural one, an acidic stressed-out one, a bovine one, an I’ve just been to MacDonalds one, and a 'I like jogging a lot one'.
I've had the chance in my lucky days to have a real feel and even taste of them (you know when the train stops suddenly , or keeps on jerking and you haven't got anything to grasp onto - Well your stopping point is unfortunately your neighbour's armpits, right in your face). I think the day I actually tasted one of them (which was by the way the one of a yuppie obviously trying to hide his late night dancing in a cheesy club by various odour neutralising strategies) was when I had the thoughtless urge to yawn. Bless.
And then English newspapers and researches and surveys blah blah blah have the cheek to say that we French don't wash, that we French stink? - What is that all about! I was saying to a friend the other day that we don't need to wash our hands each time we girls go to the loo anyway. We use toilet paper, and rarely piss on our hands. Unless English girls' fannies have a special rotating thingys that splash everywhere, that they can't control.. possible - I’ve never seen any foreign ones. I'm sorry but when I see these girls briefly putting their hands under the running tap water without soap and them wiping them on their skirts, I just think not washing them at all would have the same effect really. Especially when these skirts stink of beer .. but that’s another of my stories.
It's like that business about wearing perfume to hide our bad hygiene. Well at least WE have good quality perfumes haven't we? Our perfumes and deodorants at least don't smell of toilet fresheners. Why do you think English people buy so much of the French smelly stuff? Because it's trendy ? - No way. It’s just because they know they stink more than we do. This is even more true if you move up north as ginger haired people (more commonly found in Scotland and Ireland as everybody knows) have stronger BO - True. Anyway you English smell as much, if not more than we do, and that's why you buy more soap than we do, try to wash it off and sadly fail when it comes down to travelling in the tube.
Et toc! non mais ....
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